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THE 



SHIPWRECK. 

V i\ 
WliUiam iFalcowl^ f» 

WITH A V^ "j£. 

SKETCH OF HIS LIFE. ***>*-£ 

And now, Iash'd on by destiny severe, ^ -L^\ 

With horror fraught, the dreadful scene drew near, % **§ 

The ship hangs hovering on the verge of death, ^ -^ 

Hell yawns, rocks rise, and breakers roar beneath! — \ -& 

O yet confirm my heart, ye powers above ! ^ 

This last tremendous shock of fate to prove: 
The tottering frame of reason yet sustain ! 
Nor let this total ruin whirl my brain ! 

Canto HI. 



NEW-YORK : 
PUBLISHED BY SOLOMON KING, 136 WILLIAM STREET 



W. E. Dean, Printer, 90 William-Street. 



1325. 







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17 



THE L1FK 



WILLIAM FALCONER 



The obscurity in which the early part of the life of 
William Falconer is involved, precludes us from detail- 
ing memoirs and anecdotes of him anterior to the year 
1751, or even his education. Scotland has the honour 
of giving birth to this extraordinary genius, who, rising 
superior to every impediment which surrounded him, 
displayed his poetic powers at a very early age, in a 
small poem which he published at Edinburgh in the year 
1751, on the death of the Prince of Wales, under the ti- 
tle of A Poem, sacred to the memory of the Prince of 
Wales. 

From this time till the year 1762, we have no traces 
of his genius. He then published his beautiful poem of 
The Shipwreck, in three cantos, by a Sailor. The main 
subject of this masterly composition is a descriptive ac- 
count of the voyage of the Britannia merchantman, from 
Alexandria in Egypt, to Venice ; after touching at the 



iv LIFE OF FALCONER. 

isle of Candia, she was proceeding on her voyage, when 
she encountered a violent storm, that drove her on the 
coast of Greece, near Cape Colonna, where she unfortu- 
nately suffered shipwreck ; three only of the crew escap- 
ing with their lives. This admirable poem, which has 
fixed his fame on the solid basis of universal approba- 
tion, partakes more of the effusions of fancy than the 
labours of art, which he displays in new and original 
scenes, taken from nature and his own actual observa- 
tion, and enriched with all the variety of description that 
can charm, interest, and impress the mind of the reader. 
He displays an ample combination of nautical ability, in 
language conformable to marine technical terms, embel- 
lished with all the spontaneous flow and smooth harmo- 
ny of verse. 

The author inscribed this poem to the late Duke of 
York, next brother to his Majesty, then an officer in the 
Royal Navy. That he was exposed to all the complicat- 
ed horrors he so forcibly and pathetically describes, ap- 
pears from several parts of this poem, and more particu- 
larly the motto, 

> — quaeque ipse miserrima vidi, 

Et quorum pars magna fui. 

This performance met with a reception highly flatter- 
ing to our author's reputation. He was now patronized 
by the Duke of York, to whom he addressed An Ode on 
his second departure from England as Rear- Admiral ; and, 
emerging from the obscurity of his former situation, was 
appointed Purser of the Royal George man of war. 

The Demagogue, a satirical piece, was his next avowed 
publication, in which he attacks with acrimony the pub- 
lic conduct of the late Lord Chatham, who, at that time, 
espoused Mr. Wilkes, then under prosecution by Govern- 
in en t for a libel. 



LIFE OF FALCONER. v 

The favourable reception his poem of The Shipwreck 
met with, induced him, in 1764, to publish a new edition, 
enlarged with upwards of a thousand lines, containing 
new descriptions, characters, &c. 

In 1769, his Marine Dictionary made its appearance ; a 
work of much ingenuity, and replete with information 
for such as wish to acquire a proficiency in naval archi- 
tecture or nautical knowledge. 

A third edition of his Shipwreck, with alterations and 
additions, appeared soon afterwards, which again added 
to the reputation he had before acquired. 

In this year, 1769, an advantageous prospect present- 
ing itself to his view in the East-Indies, he embarked on 
board the Aurora frigate, in company with several East- 
India supercargoes for Bengal ; but from the time the 
ship left the Cape of Good Hope, in December, 1769, 
no information whatever being ever received of her, 
she was supposed to have perished at sea ; and our poet, 
with the passengers and crew, in all probability, unfor* 
iunately shared the fate of their vessel, 



A 2 



THE 

SHIPWRECK 

CANTO I. 



ARGUMENT. 

Proposal of the subject. — Invocation. — Apology. — Allegorical descrip- 
tion of Memory. — Appeal to her assistance. — The story begun. — A 
retrospect of the former part of the voyage. — The ship arrives at 
Candia. — Ancient state of that island. — Present state of the adja- 
cent isles of Greece. — The season of the year. — Character of the 
master and his officers. — Story of Palemon and Anna. — Evening 
described. — Midnight. — The ship weighs anchor and departs from 
the haven. — State of the weather. — Morning. — Situation of the 
neighbouring shores. — Operation of taking the sun's azimuth. — Des- 
cription of the vessel as seen from the land. 

The Scene is near the city of Candia ; and the time about 
four days and a half. 

While jarring interests wake the world to arms, 
And fright the peaceful vale with dire alarms ; 
While Ocean hears vindictive thunders roll 
Along his trembling wave from pole to pole ; 
Sick of the scene, where War, with ruthless hand 
Spreads desolation o'er the bleeding land ; 
Sick of the tumult, where the trumpet's breath 
Bids ruin smile, and drowns the groan of death ! 
'Tis mine, retir'd beneath this cavern hoar, 
That stands all lonely on the sea-beat shore, 



8 THE SHIPWRECK. 

Far other themes of deep distress to sing 

Than ever trembled from the vocal string. 

No pomp of battle swells th' exalted strain, 

Nor gleaming arms ring dreadful on the plain ; 

But, o'er the scene while pale remembrance weeps, 

Fate with fell triumph rides upon the deeps. 

Here hostile elements tumultuous rise, 

And lawless floods rebel against the skies; 

Till Hope expires, and Peril and Dismay 

Wave their black ensigns on the watery way. 

Immortal train, who guide the maze of song ; 
To whom all science, arts and arms belong ; 
Who bid the trumpet of eternal fame 
Exalt the warrior's and the poet's name ! 
If e'er with trembling hope I fondly stray'd, 
In life's fair morn, beneath your hallow'd shade, 
To hear the sweetly-mournful lute complain, 
And melt the heart with ecstacy of pain ; 
Or listen, while th' enchanting voice of love, 
While all Elysium warbled through the grove : 
O ! by the hollow blast that moans around, 
That sweeps the wild harp with a plaintive sound ; 
By the long surge that foams through yonder cave, 
Whose vaults remurmur to the roaring wave ; 
With living colours give my verse to glow, 
The sad memorial of a tale of wo ! 
A scene from dumb oblivion to restore, 
To fame unknown, and new to epic lore ! 

Alas! neglected by the sacred Nine, 
Their suppliant feels no genial ray divine ; 
Ah ! will they leave Pieria's happy shore, 
To plough the tide where wint'ry tempests roar ? 
Or shall a youth approach their hallow'd fane, 
Stranger to Phoebus, and the tuneful train ? — 



THE SHIPWRECK. 

Far from the Muses' academic grove, 

'Twas his the vast and trackless deep to rove. 

Alternate change of climates has he known, 

And felt the fierce extremes of either zone : 

Where polar skies congeal th' eternal snow, 

Or equinoctial suns for ever glow. 

Smote by the freezing or the scorching blast, 

* A ship boy on the high and giddy mast'* 

From regions where Peruvian billows roar, 

To the bleak coasts of savage Labrador. 

From where Damascus, pride of Asian plains ! 

Stoops her proud neck beneath tyrannic chains, 

To where the isthmus,t lav'd by adverse tides, 

Atlantic and Pacific seas divides. 

But while he measur'd o'er the painful race, 

In fortunes wild illimitable chase, 

Adversity, companion of his way ! 

Still o'er the victim hung with iron sway ; 

Bade new distresses every instant grow r , 

Marking each change of place, with change of wo. 

In regions where the Almighty's chastening hand 

With livid pestilence afflicts the land : 

Or where pale famine blasts the hopeful year, 

Parent of want and misery severe '. 

Or where, all dreadful in the embattled line, 

The hostile ships in flaming combat join : 

Where the torn vessel wind and wave assail, 

Till o'er her crew distress and death prevail. — 

Where'er he wander'd, thus vindictive fate 

Pursued his weary steps with lasting hate ! 

Rous'd by her mandate, storms of black array 

Winter'd the morn of life's advancing day ; 

* Shakespeare. j Darien. 



10 THE SHIPWRECK. 

Relax'd the sinews of the living lyre, 
And quench'd the kindling spark of vital fire. — 
Thus while forgotton or unknown he wooes, 
Whaf hope to win the coy reluctant Muse ! 
Then let not censure, with malignant joy, 
The harvest of his humble hope destroy ! 
His verse no laurel-wreath attempts to claim, 
Nor sculptured brass to tell the poet's name. 
If terms uncouth, and jarring phrases, wound 
The softer sense with inharmonious sound, 
Yet here let listening sympathy prevail, 
While conscious truth unfolds her piteous tale ! 

And lo ! the Power that wakes th' eventful song, 
Hastes hither from Lethean banks along : 
She sweeps the gloom, and rushing on the sight, 
Spreads o'er the kindling scene propitious light ! — 
In her right hand an ample rolls appears, 
Fraught with long annals of preceding years : 
With every wise and noble art of man. 
Since first the circling hours their course began. 
Her left a silver wand on high display'd, 
Whose magic touch dispels oblivion's shade. 
Pensive her look ; on radiant wings that glow 
Like Juno's birds or Iris' flaming bow, 
She sails ; and swifter than the course of light 
Directs her rapid, intellectual flight. 
The fugitive ideas she restores, 

And calls the wandering thought from Lethe's shores. 
To things long past a second date she gives, 
And hoary time from her fresh youth receives. 
Congenial sister of immortal Fame, 
She shares her power, and Memory is her name, 

O first-born daughter of primeval Time ! 
By whom transmitted down in every clime, 



THE SHIPWRECK. 11 

The deeds of ages long elaps'd are known, 

And blazon'd glories spread from zone to zone : 

Whose breath dissolves the gloom of mental night, 

And o'er' th' obscur'd idea pours the light ! 

Whose wing unerring glides through time and place, 

And trackless scours th' immensity of space ; 

Say ! on what seas, for thou alone canst tell, 

What dire mishap a fated ship befel, 

Assail'd by tempests, girt with hostile shores ? — 

Arise ! approach ! unlock thy treasur'd stores ! — 

A ship from Egypt, o'er the deep impell'd 
By guiding winds, her course for Venice held : 
Of fam'd Britannia were the gallant crew ; 
And, from that isle, her name the vessel drew. 
The wayward steps of Fortune, that delude 
Full oft to ruin, eager they pursu'd : 
And dazzled by her visionary glare, 
Advanc'd incautious of each fatal snare, 
Though warn'd full oft the slippery track to shun, 
Yet Hope, with flattering voice, betray'd them on. 
Beguil'd to danger thus, they left behind 
The scene of peace, and social joy resign'd. 
Long absent they, from friends and native home, 
The cheerless ocean were inur'd to roam : 
Yet Heaven, in pity to severe distress, 
Had crown'd each painful voyage with success : 
Still to atone for toils and hazards past, 
Restor'd them to maternal plains at last. 

Thrice had the sun, to rule the varying year, 
Acrost th' equator roll'd his flaming sphere, 
Since last the vessel spread her ample sail 
From Albion's coast, obsequious to the gale. 
She o'er the spacious flood, from shore to shore, 
Unwearying wafted her commercial store. 



12 THE SHIPWRECK. 

The richest ports of Afric she had view'd, 
Thence to fair Italy her course pursu'd ; 
Had left behind Trinacria's burning isle, 
And visited the margin of the Nile. 
And now, that winter deepens round the pole, 
The circling voyage hastens to its goal, 
They, blind to Fate's inevitable law, 
No dark event to blast their hope foresaw ; 
But from gay Venice, soon expect to steer 
For Britain's coast, and dread no perils near. 
A thousand tender thoughts their souls employ, 
That fondly dance to scenes of future joy. 

Thus time elaps'd, while o'er the pathless tide, 
Their ship thro' Grecian seas the pilots guide. 
Occasion call'd to touch atCandia's shore, 
Which, blest with favouring winds, they soon explore 
The haven enter, borne before the gale, 
Despatch their commerce, and prepare to sail. 

Eternal powers ! what ruins from afar 
Mark the fell track of desolating war ! 
Here art and commerce, with auspicious reign, 
Once breath'd sweet influence on the happy plain : 
While o'er the lawn, with dance and festive song, 
Young Pleasure led the jocund hours along. 
In gay luxuriance Ceres too was seen 
To crown the vallies with eternal green. 
For wealth, for valour, courted and rever'd, 
What Albion is, fair Candia then appearM. — 
Ah ! who the flight of ages can revoke ? 
The freeborn spirit of her sons is broke ; 
They bow to Ottoman's imperious yoke ! 
No longer Fame the drooping heart inspires, 
For rude Oppression quench'd its genial fires, 
But still her fields, with golden harvests crown'd. 
Supply the barren shores of Greece around. 




T.Stothard TLASel. 



O.H.Tiir, 00 



Lolher brielT-t iruage.pen.dariL oamvNcd', 
Is all Pi\LEMON rescu'd from, the 



Fubfb v SJkii i!,'- 2sTrnYi>/-k 
1825. 




With him the Pilots, of their hopeless state. 
In mournful Consultation now debate. 

Fublhy &£m%NewYork, 
1825. 




T.Stotttard R4J)d. Enp'by O.KThnotpJXX 

To Lier PALEMON told his tender Tab. 

Pubfby $Kxx%Mw-York 
1825. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 13 

What pale distress afflicts those wretched isles! 
There hope ne'er dawns, and pleasure never smiles;. 
The vassal wretch obsequious drags his chain, 
And hears his famish'd babes lament in vain. 
These eyes have seen the dull reluctant soil 
A seventh year scorn the weary laborer's toil. 
No blooming Venus, on the desert shore 
Now views, with triumph, captive gods adore. 
No lovely Helens now, with fatal charms, 
Call forth th' avenging chiefs of Greece to arms. 
No fair Penelopes enchant the eye, 
For whom contending kings are proud to die. 
Here sullen beauty sheds a twilight ray, 
While sorrow bids her vernal bloom decay. 
Those charms, so long renown'd in classic strains, 
Had dimly shone on Albion's happier plains ! 
Now, in the southern hemisphere, the sun 
Thro' the bright Virgin and the Scales had run; 
And on th' ecliptic wheel'd his winding way, 
Till the fierce Scorpion felt his flaming ray. 
The ship was moor'd beside the wave-worn strand ; 
Four days her anchors bite the golden sand: 
For sickening vapours lull the air to sleep, 
And not a breeze awakes the silent deep. 
This, when th' autumnal equinox is o'er, 
And Phoebus in the north declines no more, 
The watchful mariner, whom heaven informs, 
Oft deems the prelude of approaching storms. 
True to his trust when sacred duty calls, 
No brooding storm the master's soul appals : 
The advancing season warns him to the main : — 
A captive, fetterdto the oar of gain ! 
His anxious heart, impatient of delay, 
Expects the winds to sail from Candia's bay ; 
B 



14 THE SHIPWRECK 

Determin'd, from whatever point they rise. 
To trust his fortune to the seas and skies. 

Thou living ray of intellectual fire, 
Whose voluntary gleams my verse inspire ! 
Ere yet the deepening incidents prevail, 
Till rous'd attention feel our plaintive tale, 
Record whom, chief among the gallant crew, 
Th' unblest pursuit of fortune hither drew I 
Can sons of Neptune, generous, brave and bold. 
In pain and hazard toil for sordid gold ? 

They can ! for gold, too oft, with magic art, 
Subdues each nobler impulse of the heart : 
This crowns the prosperous villain with applause, 
To whom in vain, sad Merit pleads her cause : 
This strews with roses life's perplexing road, 
And leads the way to pleasure's blest abode ; 
With slaughtered victims fills the weeping plain, 
And smooths the furrows of the treacherous main. 

O'er the gay vessel, and her daring band, 
Experienc'd Albert held the chief command. 
Tho' train'd in boisterous elements, his mind 
Was yet by soft humanity refin'd. 
Each joy of wedded love at home he knew ; 
Abroad confest the father of his crew ! 
Brave, liberal, just ! the calm domestic scene 
Had o'er his temper breath'd a gay serene : 
Him science taught, by mistic lore to trace 
The planets wheeling in eternal race ; 
To mark the ship in floating balance held, 
By earth attracted and by seas repePd ; 
Or point her devious track thro' climes unknown, 
That leads to every shore and every zone. 
He saw the moon thro' heaven's blue concave glide. 
And into motion charm th' expanding tide ; 



THE SHIPWRECK. 15 

While earth impetuous round her axle rolls, 
Exalts her watery zone and sinks the poles : 
Light and attraction, from their genial source, 
He saw still wand'ring with diminish'd force : 
While on the margin of declining day, 
Night's shadowy cone reluctant melts away — 
Inur'd to peril, with unconquer'd soul, 
The chief beheld tempestuous oceans roll ; 
His genius, ever for th' event prepar'd, 
Rose with the storm, and all its dangers shar'd. 

The second powers and office Rodmond bore : 
A hardy son of England's furthest shore ! 
Where bleak Northumbria pours her savage train 
In sable squadrons o'er the northern main ; 
That, with her pitchy entrails stor'd, resort, 
A sooty tribe ! to fair Augusta's port. 
Where'er in ambush lurk the fatal sands, 
They claim the danger ; proud of skilful bands ; 
For, while with darkling course their vessels sweep 
The winding shore, or plough the faithless deep, 
O'er bar* and shelf the watery path they sound , 
With dexterous arm ; sagacious of the ground ! 
Fearless they combat every hostile wind, 
Wheeling in mazy tracks, with course inclin'd. 
Expert to moor, where terrors line the road ; 
Or win the anchor from its dark abode ; 
But drooping and relax'd in climes afar, 
Tumultuous and undisciplin'd in war. 
Such Rodmond was ; by learning unrefin'd, 
That oft enlightens to corrupt the mind. 

* A bar is known in hydrography, to be a mass of earth or sand 
collected by the surge of the sea, at the entrance of a river or haven, 
so as to render the navigation difficult, and often dangerous. 



16 THE SHIPWRECK. 

Boisterous of manners ; train'd, in early youth, 

To scenes that shame the conscious cheek of truth ; 

To scenes that Nature's struggling voice controul, 

And freeze compassion rising in the soul ! 

Where|the grim hell-hounds, prowling round the shore, 

With foul intent the stranded bark explore — 

Deaf to the voice of wo, her decks they board, 

While tardy justice slumbers o'er her sword — 

Th' indignant muse, severely taught to feel, 

Shrinks from a theme she blushes to reveal ! 

Too oft example, arm'd with poisons fell, 

Pollutes the shrine where mercy loves to dwell : 

Thus Rodmond, train'd by this unhallow'd crew, 

The sacred social passions never knew : 

Unskilled to argue ; in dispute yet loud : 

Bold without caution ; without honours proud : 

In art unschooled ; each veteran rule he priz'd, 

And all improvement haughtily despis'd : 

Yet tho' full oft to future perils blind, 

With skill superior glow'd his daring mind, 

Thro' snares of death the reeling bark to guide, 

When midnight shades involve the raging tide. 

To Rodmond next, in order of command, 

Succeeds the youngest of our naval band. 

But what avails it to record a name 

That courts no rank among the sons of fame ! 

While yet a stripling, oft with fond alarms, 

His bosom danc'd to Nature's boundless charms. 

On him fair science dawn'd in happier hour, 

Awakening into bloom young fancy's flower ; 

But frowning Fortune with untimely blast, 

The blossom wither'd, and the dawn o'ercast. 

Forlorn of heart, and by severe decree, 

Condemn'd reluctant to the faithless sea, 



THE SHIPWRECK. 17 

With long farewell he left the laurel grove, 
Where science and the tuneful sisters rove. — 
Hither he wander'd, anxious to explore 
Antiquities of nations now no more : 

To penetrate each distant realm unknown, 

And range excursive o'er th' untravel'd zone. 

In vain ! — for rude Adversity's command, 

Still on the margin of each famous land, 

With unrelenting ire, his steps oppos'd ; 

And every gate of hope against him clos'd. 

Permit my verse, ye blest Pierian train, 

To call Arion, this ill-fated swain ! 

For, like that bard unhappy, on his head 

Malignant stars their hostile influence shed. 

Both, in lamenting numbers, o'er the deep, 

With conscious anguish taught the harp to weep : 

And both the raging surge in safety bore, 

Amid destruction, panting to the shore. 

This last our tragic story from the wave 

Of dark oblivion haply yet may save : 

With genuine sympathy may yet complain, 

While sad remembrance bleeds at every vein. 

Such were the pilots ; tutor'd to divine 
The untravel'd course by geometric line : 
Train'd to command, and range the various sail, 
Whose various force conforms to every gale. — 
Charg'd with the commerce, hither also came 
A gallant youth, Palemon was his name : 
A father's stern resentment doom'd to prove, 
He came, the victim of unhappy love I 
His heart for Albert's beauteous daughter bled ; 
For her a secret flame his bosom fed. 
Nor let the wretched slaves of folly scorn 
This genuine passion, Nature's eldest born I 
B2 



IS THE SHIPWRECK. 

'Twas his with lasting anguish to complain, 
While blooming Anna mourn'd the cause in vain 
Graceful of form, by Nature taught to please, 
Of power to melt the female breast with ease, 
To her Palemon told his tender tale, 
Soft as the voice of summer's evening gale : 
O'erjoy'd he saw her lovely eyes relent ; 
The blushing maiden smiPd with sweet consent. 
Oft in the mazes of a neighbouring grove, 
Unheard, they breath'd alternate vows of love : 
By fond society their passion grew, 
Like the young blossom fed with vernal dew. 
In evil hour the officious tongue of Fame 
Betray'd the secret of their mutual flame. 
With grief and anger struggling in his breast, 
Palemon's father heard the tale confest. 
Long had he listen'd with Suspicion's ear, 
And learnt, sagacious, this event to fear. 
Too well, fair youth ! thy liberal heart he knew, 
A heart to Nature's warm impressions true ; 
.Full oft his wisdom strove, with fruitless toil, 
With avarice to pollute that generous soil ; 
That soil impregnated with nobler seed, 
Refused the culture of so rank a -weed. 
Elate with wealth in active commerce won, 
And basking in the smile of Fortune's sun, 
With scorn the parent ey'd the lowly shade, 
That veil'd the beauties of this charming maid ; 
Indignant he rebuk'd the enamour'd boy, 
The flattering promise of his future joy ! 
He sooth'd and menac'd, anxious to reclaim 
This hopeless passion, or divert its aim : 
Oft led the youth, where circling joys delight 
The ravish'd sense, or beauty charms the sight. 



THE SHIPWRECK. J 9 

Willi all her powers enchanting Music fail'd, 
And Pleasure's syren voice no more prevail'd. 
The Merchant, kindling then with proud disdain, 
In look and voice assum'd a harsher strain. 
In absence now his only hope remain'd ; 
And such the stern decree his will ordain'd. 
Deep anguish, while Palemon heard his doom, 
Drew o'er his lovely face a saddening gloom : 
In vain with bitter sorrow he repin'd, 
No tender pity touch'd that sordid mind ; 
To thee, brave Albert, was the charge consign'dr 
The stately ship, forsaking England's shore, 
To regions far remote Palemon bore. 
Incapable of change, th' unhappy youth 
Still lovM fair Anna with eternal truth : 
From clime to clime an exile doom'd to roam, 
His heart still panted for its secret home. 

The moon had circled twice her wayward zone 
To him, since young Arion first was known ; 
When wandering here through many a scene renown'd, 
In Alexandria's port the vessel found ; 
Where, anxious to review his native shore, 
He on the roaring wave embark'd once more. 
Oft by pale Cynthia's melancholy light, 
With him Palemon kept the watch of night ; 
In whose sad bosom many a sigh supprest, 
Some painful secret of the soul confest. 
Perhaps Arion soon the cause divin'd, 
Though shunning still to probe a wounded mind ; 
He felt the chastity of silent wo, 
Though glad the balm of comfort to bestow : 
He, with Palemon, oft recounted o'er 
The tales of hapless love in ancient lore, 
Recaird to memory by the adjacent shore. 



20 THE SHIPWRECK. 

The scene thus present, and its story known, 
The lover sigh'd for sorrows not his own. 
Thus, though a recent date their friendship bore, 
Soon the ripe metal own'd the quick'ning ore ; 
For in one tide their passions seem'd to roll, 
By kindred age and sympathy of soul. 

These o'er th' inferior naval train preside, 
The course determine, or the commerce guide ; 
O'er all the rest, an undistinguish'd crew ! 
Her wing of deepest shade oblivion drew. 
A sullen languor still the skies opprest, 
And held th' unwilling ship in strong arrest. 
High in his chariot glow'd the lamp of day ; 
O'er Ida flaming with meridian ray, 
Relax'd from toil the sailors range the shore, 
Where famine, war, and storm are felt no more : 
The hour to social pleasure they resign, 
And black remembrance drown in generous wine. 
On deck, beneath the shading canvass spread, 
Rodmond a rueful tale of wonders read, 
Of dragons roaring on the enchanted coast; 
The hideous goblin, and the yelling ghost — 
But with Arion, from the sultry heat 
Of noon Palemon sought a cool retreat, 
And lo ! the shore with mournful prospects crown'd j* 
The rampart torn with many a fatal wound ; 
The ruin'd bulwark tottering o'er the strand; 
Bewail the stroke of War's tremendous hand. 
What scenes of wo this hapless isle o'erspread ! 
Where late thrice fifty thousand warriors bled. 

* The intelligent reader will readily discover, that these remarks 
allude to the ever-memorable siege of Candia, which was taken from 
the Venetians by the Turks in 1669 ; being then considered as im- 
pregnable, and esteemed the most formidable fortress in the universe. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 21 

Full twice twelve summers were yon towers assail 'd, 
Till barbarous Ottoman at last prevail'd : 
While thundering mines the lovely plains o'erturn'd, 
While heroes fell, and domes and temples burn'd. 

But now before them happier scenes arise I 
Elysian vales salute their ravish'd eyes : 
Olive and cedar form'd a grateful shade, 
Where light with gay romantic error stray'd. 
The myrtles here with fond caresses twine ; 
There, rich with nectar, melts the pregnant vine. 
And lo ! the stream, renown'd in classic song, 
Sad Lethe, glides the silent vale along. 
On mossy banks, beneath the citron grove, 
The youthful wanderers found a wild alcove : 
Soft o'er the fairy region languor stole, 
And with sweet melancholy charm'd the soul. 
Here first Paeemon, while his pensive mind 
For consolation on his friend reclin'd, 
In pity's bleeding bosom pour'd the stream 
Of love's soft anguish, and of grief supreme — 
Too true thy words ! — by sweet remembrance taught^ 
My heart in secret bleeds with tender thought : 
In vain it courts the solitary shade, 
By every action, every look betray'd ! — 
The pride of generous wo disdains appeal 
To hearts that unrelenting frosts congeal. 
Yet sure, if right Palemon can divine, 
The sense of gentle pity dwells in thine. 
Yes! all his cares thy sympathy shall know. 
And prove the kind companion of his wo. 

Albert thou know'st with skill and science grac'd, 
In humble station tho' by fortune plac'd, 
Yet, never seaman more serenely brave 
Led Britain's conqu'ring squadrons o'er the wave. 



22 THE SHIPWRECK. 

Where full in view Augusta's spires are seen, 
With flowery lawns, and waving woods between, 
A peaceful dwelling stands in modest pride, 
Where Thames, slow-winding rolls his ample tide. 
There live the hope and pleasure of his life, 
A pious daughter and a faithful wife. 
For his return, with fond officious care, 
Still every grateful object these prepare ; 
Whatever can allure the smell or sight, 
Or wake the drooping spirit to delight. 

This blooming maid in virtue's path to guide 
Her anxious parents, all their cares apply'd. 
Her spotless soul, where soft compassion reign' d, 
No vice untun'd, no sickening folly stain'd. 
Not fairer grows the lily of the vale, 
Whose bosom opens to the vernal gale : 
Her eyes, unconscious of their fatal charms, 
Thrill'd every heart with exquisite alarms : 
Her face, in beauty's sweet attraction drest, 
The smile of maiden-innocence exprest : 
While health, that rises with the new-born day, 
Breath'd o'er her cheek the softest blush of May. 
Still in her look complacence smil'd serene ; 
She mov'd, the charmer of the rural scene. 

'Twas at that season when the fields resume 
Their loveliest hues, array'd in vernal bloom : 
Yon ship, rich freighted from th* Italian shore, 
To Thames' fair banks her costly tribute bore i 
While thus my father saw his ample hoard, 
From this return, with recent treasures stor'd ; 
Me, with affairs of commerce charg'd, he sent 
To Albert's humble mansion ; soon I wem% 
Too soon, alas ! unconscious of th' event — 



THE SHIPWRECK. 2$ 

There, struck with sweet surprise and silent awe, 

The gentle mistress of my hopes I saw ; 

There, wounded first by love's resistless arms, 

My glowing bosom throbb'd with strange alarms. 

My ever-charming Anna ! who alone 

Can all the frowns of cruel fate atone ; 

O ! while all-conscious memory holds her power, 

Can I forget that sweetly-painful hour, 

When from those eyes, with lovely lightning fraught, 

My fluttering spirits first th' infection caught : 

When, as I gaz'd, my faultering tongue betray'd. 

The heart's quick tumults, or refus'd its aid ; 

While the dim light my ravish'd eyes forsook, 

And every limb unstrung with terror shook ! 

With all her powers dissenting reason strove 

To tame at first the kindling flame of love ; 

She strove in vain, subdu'd by charms divine. 

My soul a victim fell at beauty's shrine. 
Oft from the din of bustling life I stray'd, 
In happier scenes to see my lovely maid. 

Full oft, where Thames his wandering current leads, 
We rov'd at evening hour through flowery meads. 
There, while my heart's soft anguish I reveal'd, 
To her with tender sighs my hope appeal'd. 
While the sweet nymph my faithful tale believ'd, 
Her snowy breast with secret tumult heav'd ; 
For, train'd in rural scenes from earliest youth, 
Nature was her's, and innocence and truth. 
She never knew the city damsel's art, 
Whose frothy pertness charms the vacant heart ! — 
My suit prevail'd ; for love inform'd my tongue, 
And on his votary's lips persuasion hung. 
Her eyes with conscious sympathy withdrew, 
And o'er her cheek the rosy current flew. — 



24 THE SHIPWRECK. 

Thrice happy hours ! where, with no dark allay, 

Life's fairest sunshine gilds the vernal day ! 

For here the sigh, that soft affection heaves, 

From stings of sharper woe the soul relieves. 

Elysian scenes, too happy long to last ! 

Too soon a storm the smiling dawn o'ercast ! 

Too soon some demon to my father bore 

The tidings that his heart with anguish tore. — 

My pride to kindle with dissuasive voice, 

Awhile he labour'd to degrade my choice : 

Then, in the whirling wave of pleasure, sought 

From its lov'd object to divert my thought. 

With equal hope he might attempt to bind, 

In chains of adamant, the lawless wind : 

For love had aim'd the fatal shaft too sure ; 

Hope fed the wound, and absence knew no cure. 

With alienated look, each art he saw, 

Still baffled by superior Nature's law. 

His anxious mind on various schemes revolv'd ; 

At last on cruel exile he resolv'd. 

The rigorous doom was fix'd ; alas ! how vain 

To him of tender anguish to complain ! 

His soul that never love's sweet influence felt, 

By social sympathy could never melt ; 

With stern command to Albert's charge he gave, 

To waft Palemon o'er the distant wave. 

The ship was laden and prepar'd to sail, 
And only waited now the leading gale. 
'Twas ours, in that sad period, first to prove 
The heartfelt torments of despairing love. 
The impatient wish that never feels repose : 
Desire that with perpetual current flows : 
The fluctuating pangs of hope and fear, 
Joys distant still, and sorrow ever near J 



THE SHIPWRECK. 25 

Thus, while the pangs of thought severer grew, 

The western breezes inauspicious blew, 

Hastening the moment of our last adieu. 

The vessel parted on the falling tide ; 

Yet time one sacred hour to love supply'd. 

The night was silent, and, advancing fast, 

The moon o'er Thames her silver mantle cast, 

Impatient hope the midnight path explor'd, 

And led me to the nymph my soul ador'd. 

Soon her quick footsteps struck my listening ear ! 

She came confest ! the lovely maid drew near .' 

But ah ! what force of language can impart 

Th' impetuous joy that glow'd in either heart ! 

O ! ye, whose melting hearts are form'd to prove 

The trembling ecstacies of genuine love ! 

When with delicious agony, the thought 

Is to the verge of high delirium wrought; 

Your secret sympathy alone can tell 

What raptures then the throbbing bosom swell : 

O'er all the nerves what tender tumults roll, 

While love with sweet enchantment melts the soul. 

In transport lost, my trembling hope imprest, 
The blushing virgin sunk upon my breast ; 
While her's congenial beat with fond alarms : 
Dissolving softness ! paradise of charms ! 
Flash'd from our eyes, in warm transfusion flew 
Our blending spirits, that each other drew ! 
O bliss supreme ! where virtue's self can melt 
With joys that guilty pleasure never felt ! 
Form'd to refine the thought with chaste desire, 
And kindle sweet affection's purest fire ! 
Ah ! wherefore should my hopeless love, she cries. 
While sorrow burst with interrupting sighs, 
C 



2(3 THE SHIPWRECK. 

For ever destined to lament in vain, 

Such flattering, fond ideas entertain ? 

My heart through scenes of fair illusion stray'd. 

To joys decreed for some superior maid, 

'Tis mine to feel the sharpest stings of grief, 

Where never gentle hope affords relief. 

Go then, dear youth ! thy father's rage atone ! 

And let this tortur'd bosom beat alone ! 

The hovering anger yet thou may'st appease ; 

Go then, dear youth ! nor tempt the faithless seas ! 

Find out some happier daughter of the town, 
With fortune's fairer joys thy love to crown ; 
Where smiling o'er thee with indulgent ray, 

Prosperity shall hail each new-born day. 

Too well thou know'st good Albert's niggard fate. 

Ill fitted to sustain thy father's hate ; 

Go then, I charge thee, by thy generous love, 

That fatal to my father thus may prove ! 

On me alone let dark affliction fall ! 

Whose heart, for thee, will gladly suffer all. 

Then haste thee hence, Palemon, ere too late, 

Nor rashly hope to brave opposing fate ! 

She ceas'd : while anguish in her angel-face 
O'er all her beauties shower'd celestial grace. 
Not Helen, in her bridal charms array'd, 
Was half so lovely as this gentle maid. 
O soul of all my wishes ! I reply'd, 
Can that soft fabric stem affliction's tide ? * 
Canst thou, fair emblem of exalted truth ! 
To sorrow doom the summer of thy youth ; 
And I, perfidious ! all that sweetness see 
Consign 'd to lasting misery for me ! 
Sooner this moment may th' eternal doom 
Palemoiv in the silent earth entomb! 



THE SHIPWRECK. ftg 

Attest thou moon, fair regent of the night ! 

Whose lustre sickens at this mournful sight ; 

By all the pangs divided lovers feel, 

That sweet possession only knows to heal ! 

By all the horrors brooding o'er the deep ! 

Where fate and ruin sad dominion keep ; 

Though tyrant duty o'er me threatening stands. 

And claims obedience to her stern commands: 

Should fortune cruel or auspicious prove, 

Her smile or frown shall never change my love ! 

My heart, that now must every joy resign, 

Incapable of change, is only thine ! — 

O cease to weep ! this storm will yet decay, 

And the sad clouds of sorrow melt away. 

While through the rugged path of life we go, 

All mortals taste the bitter draught of wo. 

The fam'd and great, decreed to equal pain, 

Full oft in splendid wretchedness complain. 

For this prosperity, with brighter ray, 

In smiling contrast gilds our vital day. 

Thou too, sweet maid ! ere twice ten months are o'er 

Shalt hail Palemon to his native shore, 

Where never interest shall divide us more. 

Her struggling soul, o'erwhelm'd with tender grief, 

Now found an interval of short relief: 

So melts the surface of the frozen stream, 

Beneath the wint'ry sun's departing beam. 

With warning haste the shades of night withdrew, 

And gave the signal of a sad adieu. 

As on my neck the afflicted maiden hung, 

A thousand racking doubts her spirit wrung, 

She wept the terrors of the fearful wave, 

Too oft, alas ! the wandering lover's grave ! 

With soft persuasion I dispel'd her fear, 

And from her cheek beguiFd the falling tear, 



28 THE SHIPWRECK. 

While dying fondness languished in her eyes, 

She pour'd her soul to heaven in suppliant sighs — 

Look down with pity, oh ! ye powers above, 

Who hear the sad complaints of bleeding love I 

Ye, who the secret laws of fate explore, 

Alone can tell if he returns no more ; 

Or if the hour of future joy remain, 

Long-wish 5 d atonement of long-suffered pain, 

Bid every guardian minister attend, 

And from all ill the much-lov'd youth defend I 

— With grief o'erwhelm'd we parted twice in vain, 

And urg'dby strong attraction, met again. 

At last, by cruel fortune torn apart, 

While tender passion stream'd in either heart ; 

Our eyes transfix'd with agonizing look ; 

One sad farewell, one last embrace we took. 

Forlorn of hope the lovely maid I left, 

Pensive and pale ; of every joy bereft. 

She to her silent couch retir'd to weep, 

While her sad swain embark' d upon the deep. 

His tale thus clos'd, from sympathy of grief, 
Palemon's bosom felt a sweet relief; 
The hapless bird, thus ravish'd from the skies, 
Where all forlorn his lov'd companion flies, 
In secret, long bewails his cruel fate, 
With fond remembrance of his winged mate : 
Till grown familiar with a foreign train, 
Composed at length, his sadly- warbling strain 
In sweet oblivion charms the sense of pain. 

Ye tender maids, in whose pathetic souls 
Compassion's sacred stream impetuous rolls* 
Whose warm affections exquisitely feel 
The secret wound vou tremble to reveal ! 



THE SHIPWRECK. 29 

Ah ! may no wanderer of the faithless main, 

Pour through your breast the soft delicious bane ! 

May never fatal tenderness approve, 

The fond effusions of their ardent love. 

O ! warn'd by friendship's counsel, learn to shun 

The fatal path where thousands are undone ! 
Now as the youths, returning o'er the plain, 

Approach'd the lonely margin of the main, 

First, with attention rous'd, Arion ey'd 

The graceful lover, form'd in Nature's pride. 

His frame the happiest symmetry display'd ; 

And locks of waving gold his neck array'd, 

In every look the Paphian graces shine, 

Soft-breathing o'er his cheek their bloom divine. 

With lightened heart he smil'd, serenely gay, 

Like young Adonis or the son of May, 

Not Cythcrea from a fairer swain 

Received her apple on the Trojan plain. 

The sun's bright orb, declining all serene, 
Now glanc'd obliquely o'er the woodland scene. 
Creation smiles around ; on every spray 
The warbling birds exalt their evening lay ; 
Blithe skipping o'er yon hill, the fleecy train, 
Join the deep chorus of the lowing plain : 
The golden lime and orange there were seen, 
On fragrant branches of perpetual green. 
The crystal streams, that velvet meadows lave r 
To the green ocean roll with chiding wave. 
The glassy ocean hush'd, forgets to roar, 
But trembling, murmurs on the sandy shore : 
And lo ! his surface, lovely to behold ! 
Glows in the west, a sea of living gold ! 
While, all above, a thousand liveries gay 
The skies with pomp inefFable array. 
C2 



30 THE SHIPWRECK. 

Araliian sweets perfume the happy plains : 
Above, beneath, around enchantment reigns : 
While yet the shades, on Time's eternal scale. 
With long vibration deepen o'er the vale : 
While yet the songsters of the vocal grove, 
With dying numbers tune the soul to love ; 
With joyful eyes th' attentive master sees 
The auspicious omens of an eastern breeze — 
Now radiant vesper leads the starry train, 
And night slow draws her veil o'er land and main - r 
Round the charg'd bowl, the sailors form a ring; 
JBy turns recount the wondrous tale, or sing ; 
As love or battle, hardships of the main, 
Or genial wine, awake their homely strain : 
Then some the watch of night alternate keep, 
The rest lie buried in oblivious sleep. 

Deep midnight now involves the livid skies, 
While infant breezes from the shore arise. 
The waning moon, behind a watery shroud, 
Pale glimmer'd o'er the long-protracted cloud. 
A mighty ring around her silver throne, 
With parting meteors cross'd, portentous shone; 
This in the troubled sky full oft prevails ; 
Oft deem'd a signal of tempestuous gales. — 
While young Arion sleeps, before his sight, 
Tumultuous swim the visions of the night. 
Now blooming Anna, with her happy swain, 
Approach'd the sacred Hymeneal fane ; 
Anon tremendous lightnings flash between ; 
And funeral pomp, and weeping loves are seen ! 
Now with Palemon up a rocky steep, 
Whose summit trembles o'er the roaring deep, 
With painful step he climb'd : while far above 
Sweet Anna charm'd them with the voice of love, 



THE SHIPWRECK. 3L 

Then sudden from the slippery height they fell, 
While dreadful yawn'd beneath, the jaws of hell — 
Amidst this fearful trance a thundering sound 
He hears — and thrice the hollow decks rebound. 
Upstarting from his couch, on deck he sprang ; 
Thrice with shrill note the boatswain's whistle rung. 
All hands unmoor I proclaims a boisterous cry : 
All hands unmoor, the cavern'd rocks reply ! 
Rous'd from repose, aloft the sailors swarm, 
And with their levers soon the windlass arm.* 
The order given, up-springing with a bound. 
They lodge the bars, and wheel their engine round ; 
At every turn the clanging pauls resound. 
Up-torn reluctant from its oozy nave, 
The ponderous anchor rises o'er the wave. 
Along their slippery masts the yards ascend, 
And high in air, the canvass wings extend : 
Redoubling cords the lofty canvass guide, 
And through inextricable mazes glide. 
The lunar rays with long reflection gleam, 
To light the vessel o'er the silver stream : 
Along the glassy plain serene she glides, 
While azure radiance trembles on her sides. 
From east to north the transient breezes play ; 
And in the Egyptian quarter soon decay. 
A calm ensues ; they dread the adjacent shore : 
The boats with rowers arm'd are sent before ; 
With cordage fastened to the lofty prow, 
Aloof to sea the stately ship they tow.f 

* The windlass is a sort of large roller, used to wind in the cable., 
or heave up the anchor. It is turned about vertically, by a number 
of long" bars or levers } in which operation it is prevented from re- 
roiling 1 by the pauls. 

f Towing is the operation of drawing a ship forward by means of 



32 THE SHIPWRECK. 

The nervous crew their sweeping oars extend ; 
And pealing shouts the shore of Candia rend. 
Success attends their skill ; the danger's o'er : 
The port is doubled and beheld no more. 

Now morn, her lamp pale-glimmering on the sight 
Scattered before her van reluctant night. 
She comes not in refulgent pomp array'd, 
But sternly frowning, wrapt in sullen shade. 
Above incumbent vapours, Ida's height, 
Tremendous rock ! emerges on the sight. 
North-east the guardian isle of Standia lies, 
And westward Freschin's woody capes arise. 

With winning postures, now the wanton sails 
Spread all their snares to charm th' inconstant gales. 
The swelling stud-sails* now their wings extend, 
Then stay-sails sidelong to the breeze ascend : 
While all to court the wandering breeze are plac'd,, 
With yards now thwarting, now obliquely brac'd. 

The dim horizon lowering vapours shroud, 
And blot the sun, yet struggling in the cloud : 
Through the wide atmosphere, condens'd with haze, 
His glaring orb emits a sanguine blaze. 
The pilots now their rules of art apply, 
The mystic needle's devious aim to try ; 
The compass plac'd to catch the rising ray,f 
The quadrant's shadows studious they survey ! 



ropes, extending from her fore part to one or more of the boats row- 
ing' before her. 

* Studding-sails are long narrow sails, which are only used in fine 
weather and fair winds, on the outside of the larger square-sails. Stay- 
sails are three-cornered sails, which are hoisted up on the stays, when 
The wind crosses the ship's course, either directly or obliquely. 

t The operation of taking the sun's azimuth, in order to discover, 
the eastern or wester)) variation of the magnetic needle 



THE SHIPWRECK, 33 

Along the arch the gradual index slides, 
While Phcebus down the vertic circle glides. 
Now, seen on ocean's utmost verge to swim, 
He sweeps it vibrant with his nether limb. 
Their sage experience thus explores the height, 
And polar distance of the source of light : 
Then through the chiliad's triple maze, they trace 
Th' analogy that proves the magnet's place. 
The wayward steel, to truth thus reconcil'd, 
No more th' attentive pilot's eye beguil'd. 

The natives, while the ship departs the land, 
Ashore with admiration gazing stand. 
Majestically slow, before the breeze, 
In silent pomp she marches on the seas. 
Her milk-white bottom cast a softer gleam, 
While trembling through the green translucent stream. 
The wales* that close above in contrast shone, 
Clasp the long fabric with n jetty zone. 
Britannia, riding awful on the prow, 
Gaz'd o'er the vassal-wave that roll'd below 
Where'er she mov'd the vassal-waves were seen 
To yield obsequious and confess their queen. 
Th' imperial trident grac'd her dexter-hand, 
Of power to rule the surge, like Moses' wand, 
Th' eternal empire of the main to keep, 
And guide her squadrons o'er the trembling deep. 
Her left propitious bore a mystic shield, 
Around whose margin rolls the wat'ry field. 
There her bold genius, in his floating car, 
O'er the wide billow hurls the storm of war — 

* The wales here alluded to are an assemblage of strong" planks, 
which envelope the lower part of the ship's side, wherein they are 
broader and thicker than the rest, and appear somewhat like a range 
of hoops which separates the bottom from the upper works.- 



34 THE SHIPWRECK. 

And lo ! the beasts, that oft with jealous rage 

In bloody combat met, from age to age, 

Tam'd into Union, yok'd in friendship's chain, 

Draw his proud chariot round the vanquish'd main. 

From the broad margin to the centre grew 

Shelves, rocks, and whirlpools, hideous to the view !- 

The immortal shield from Neptune she receiv'dj 

When first her head above the waters heav'd. 

Loose floated o'er her limbs an azure vest ; 

A figur'd scutcheon glitter'd on her breast ; 

There, from one parent soil for ever young, 

The blooming rose and hardy thistle sprung. 

Around her head an oaken wreath was seen, 

Inwove with laurels of unfading green. 

Such was the sculptur'd prow — from van to rear, 

The artillery frown'd, a black tremendous tier! 

Embalm'd with orient gum, above the wave, 

The swelling sides a yellow radiance gave. 

On the broad stern a pencil warm and bold, 

That never servile*rules of art controul'd, 

An allegoric tale on high portray'd, 

There a young hero ; here a royal maid. 

Fair England's genius, in the youth exprest, 

Her ancient foe, but now her friend confest, 

The warlike nymph with fond regard survey'd ; 

No more his hostile frown her heart dismayed. 

His look, that once shot terror from afar, 

Like young Alcides, or the god of war, 

Serene as summer's evening skies she saw ; 

Serene, yet firm; tho' mild, impressing awe. 

Her nervous arm, inur'd to toils severe, 

Brandish'd th' unconquer'd Caledonian spear. 

The dreadful falchion of the hills she wore, 

Sung to the harp in many a tale of yore, 

That oft her rivers dy'd with hostile gore. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 35 

Blue was her rocky shield ; her piercing eye 
Flash'd like the meteors of her native sky, 
Her crest, high plum'd, was rough with many a scar. 
And o'er her helmet gleam'd the northern star. 
The warrior youth appear'd of noble fame ; 
The hardy offspring of some Runic dame; 
Loose o'er his shoulders hung the slacken'd bow, 
Renown'd in song, the terror of the foe ! 
The sword, that oft the barbarous North defy'd, 
The scourge of tyrants I glitter'd by his side. 
Clad in refulgent arms, in battle won, 
The George emblazon'd on his corselet shone. 
Fast by his side was seen a golden lyre, 
Pregnant with numbers of eternal fire ; 
Whose strings unlock the witches' midnight spell, 
Or waft rapt fancy thro' the gulphs of hell — 
Struck with contagion, kindling fancy hears 
The songs of heaven ! the music of the spheres .' 
Borne on Newtonian wing thro' air she flies, 
Where other suns to other systems rise ! — 
These front the scene conspicuous — over head 
Albion's proud oak his filial branches spread : 
While on the sea-beat shore obsequious stood — 
Beneath their feet, the father of the flood — 
Here, the bold native of her cliffs above, 
Perch'd by the martial maid the bird of Jove ; 
There on the watch, sagacious of his prey, 
With eyes of fire, an English mastiff lay. 
Yonder fair commerce stretch'd her winged sail; 
Here frown'd the god that wakes the living gale — 
High o'er the poop, the flattering winds unfurl'd 
Th' imperial flag that rules the watery world. 
Deep blushing armours all the tops invest; 
And warlike trophies either quarter drest ; 



36 THE SHIPWRECK. 

Then tower' d the masts : the canvas swell' d on high \ 
And waving streamers floated in the sky. 
Thus the rich vessel moves in trim array ; 
Like some fair virgin on her bridal day : 
Thus, like a swan, she cleaves the wat'ry plain; 
The pride and wonder of the JEgian main .' 



TUT) OF THE FIRST CANT©, 



THE 

SHIPWRECK 

CANTO II. 



ARGUMENT. 

REFLECTION on leaving the land.— The gale continues — A water- 
spout. —Beauty of a dying dolphin.— The ship's progress along the 

shore. Wind strengthens. — The sails reduced,— A shoal of porpoises. 

Last appearance of Cape Spado. — Sea rises. — A squall. — The sails 
further diminished. — Mainsail split. — Ship bears away before the 
wind. — Again hauls upon the wind. — Another mainsail fitted to the 
yard. — The gale still increases. — Topsails furled.— Top-gallant yards 
sent down. — Sea enlarges. — Sun-set. — Courses reefed. — Four seamen 
lost off the lee main-yard arm. — Anxiety of the pilots from their dan- 
gerous situation. — Resolute behaviour of the sailors. — The ship la- 
bours in great distress. — The artillery thrown overboard. — Dismal 
appearance of the weather. — Very high and dangerous sea.— Severe 
fatigue ofth e crew. — Consultation and resolution of the officers — 
Speech and advice of Albert to the crew. — Necessary disposition 
to veer before the wind.—Disapp ointment in the proposed effect. — 
New dispositions equally unsuccessful. — The mizen-mast cut away. 

The Scene lies in the sea, between Cape Freschin in 
Candia, and the island of Falconera, which is nearly 
twelve leagues northward of Cape Spado. — The Time is 
from nine in the morning till one o'clock of the following 
morning. 

Adieu, ye pleasures of the rural scene, 
Where peace and calm contentment dwell serene ! 
D 



38 THE SHIPWRECK. 

To me in vain, on earth's prolific soil, 

With summer crown'd th' Elysian vallies smile ! 

To me those happier scenes no joy impart, 

But tantalize with hope my aching heart. 

For these, alas ! reluctant I forego, 

To visit storms and elements of wo ! 

Ye tempests o'er my head congenial roll, 

To suit the mournful music of my soul! 

In black progression, lo ! they hover near ; 

Hail social horrors, like my fate severe ! 

Old Ocean hail, beneath whose azure zone 

The secret deep lies unexplor'd, unknown. 

Approach, ye brave companions of the sea, 

And fearless view this awful scene with me ! 

Ye native guardians of your country's laws ! 

Ye bold assertors of her sacred cause ! 

The Muse invites you ; judge, if she depart, 

Unequal, from the precepts of your art. 

In practice train'd, and conscious of her power, 

Her steps intrepid meet the trying hour. 

O'er the smooth bosom of the faithless tides, 
Propel'd by gentle gales, the vessel glides ; 
Rodmond exulting felt th' auspicious wind, 
And by a mystic charm its aim confin'd. — 
The thoughts of home that o'er his fancy roll, 
With trembling joy dilate Palemon's soul ; 
Hope lifts his heart, before whose vivid ray 
Distress recedes, and danger melts away. 
Already Britain's parent cliffs arise, 
And in idea greet his longing eyes ! 
Each amorous sailor too, with heart elate, 
Dwells on the beauties of his gentle mate. 
Even they th' impressive dart of love can feel, 
Whose stubborn souls are sheath'd in triple steel. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 39 

Nor less o'erjoy'd, perhaps with equal truth, 

Each faithful maid expects th' approaching youth. 

In distant bosoms equal ardours glow ; 

And mutual passions mutual joy bestow. — 

Tall Ida's summit now more distant grew, 

And Jove's high hill was rising on the view : 

When from the left approaching, they descry 

A liquid column towering shoot on high. 

The foaming base an angry whirlwind sweeps, 

Where curling billows rouse the fearful deeps. 

Still round and round the fluid vortex flies, 

Scattering dun night and horror thro' the skies. 

The swift volution and th' enormous train 

Let sages vers'd in nature's lore explain ! 

The horrid apparition still draws nigh, 

And white with foam the whirling surges fly ! 

The guns were prim'd ; the vessel northward veers 

Till her black battery on the column bears, 

The nitre fir'd ; and while the dreadful sound, 

Convulsive, shook the slumbering air around, 

The wafry volume, trembling to the sky, 

Burst down a dreadful deluge from on high! 

The affrighted surge, recoiling as it fell, 

Rolling in hills disclos'd th' abyss of hell. 

But soon, this transient undulation o'er, 

The sea subsides : the whirlwinds rage no more. 

While southward now th' increasing breezes veer, 
Dark clouds incumbent on their wings appear. 
In front they view the consecrated grove 
Of cypress, sacred once to Cretan Jove. 
The thirsty canvass, all around supplied^ 
Still drinks unquench'd the full aerial tide ; 
And now, approaching near the lofty stern, 
A shoal of sportive dolphins they discern. 



40 THE SHIPWRECK. 

From burnish'd scales they beam refulgent rays, 
Till all the glowing ocean seems to blaze. 
Soon to the sport of death the crew repair, 
Dart the long lance, or spread the baited snare. 
One, in redoubling mazes, wheels along, 
And glides, unhappy! near the triple prong. 
Rodmond unerring o'er his head suspends 
The barbed steel, and every turn attends. 
Unerring aim'd the missile weapon slew, 
And, plunging, struck the fated victim through. 
Th' upturning points his ponderous bulk sustain ; 
On deck he struggles with convulsive pain. 
But while his heart the fatal javelin thrills, 
And flitting life escapes in sanguine rills, 
What radiant changes strike th' astonish'd sight ! 
What glowing hues of mingled shade and light ! 
Not equal beauties gild the lucid west, 
With parting beams all o'er profusely drest. 
Not lovelier colours paint the vernal dawn, 
When orient dews impearl th' enamel'd lawn, 
Than from his sides in bright suffusion flow, 
That now with gold imperial seem to glow ; 
Now in pallucid sapphires meet the view, 
And emulate the soft celestial hue ; 
Now beam a flaming crimson on the eye ; 
And now assume the purple's deeper dye. 
But here description clouds each shining ray, 
What terms of art can nature's powers display ? 

Now, while on high the freshening gale she feels, 
The ship beneath her lofty pressures reels, 
Th' auxiliar sails that court a gentle breeze, 
From their high stations sink by slow degrees. 
The watchful ruler of the helm no more, 
With fix'd attention, eyes th' adjacent shore : 



THE SHIPWRECK. 41 

But by the oracle of truth below, 

The wondrous magnet, guides the wayward prow. — 

The wind, that still the impressive canvass swell'd, 

Swift and more swift the yielding bark impel'd. 

Impatient thus she glides along the coast, 

Till far behind the hill of Jove is lost : 

And, while aloof from Retimo she steers, 

Malacha's foreland full in front appears. 

Wide o'er yon isthmus stands the cypress-grove 

That once enclos'd the hallow'd fane of Jove, 

Here too, memorial of his name! is found 

A tomb, in marble ruins on the ground. 

This gloomy tyrant, whose triumphant yoke 

The trembling states around to slavery broke. 

Thro' Greece, for murder, rape, and incest known, 

The Muses rais'dto high Olympus' throne. — 

For oft, alas ! their vernal strains adorn 

The prince, whom blushing virtues hold in scorn ; 

Still Rome and Greece record his endless fame, 

And hence yon mountain yet retains his name. 

But see ! in confluence borne before the blast, 
Clouds roll'd on clouds the dusky noon o'ercast; 
The blackening ocean curls ; the winds arise ; 
And the dark scud* in swift succession flies. 
While the swoln canvass bends the masts on high, 
Low in the waves the leeward cannon lie.f 

* Scud is a name given by seamen to the lowest clouds, which are 
driven with great rapidity along the atmosphere, in squally or tem- 
pestuous weather. 

t When the wind crosses a ship's course either directly or obliquely, 
that side of the ship upon which it acts, is called the weather-side 5 
and the opposite one, which is then prest downwards, is called the 
lee-side. Hence all the rigging and furniture of the ship are, at this 
time, distinguished by the side on which they are situated 5 as the lee- 
oannoD, the lee-braces, the weather-braces, &c 
D2 



42 THE SHIPWRECK. 

The sailors now, to give the ship relief, 
Reduce the topsails by a single reef.* 
Each lofty yard with slacken'd cordage reels, 
Rattle the creaking blocks, and ringing wheels. 
Down the tall masts the topsails sink amain ; 
And, soon reduc'd, assume their post again. 
More distant grew receding Candia's shore, 
And southward of the west Cape Spado bore. 
Four hours the sun his high meridian throne 
Had left, and o'er Atlantic regions shone ; 
Still blacker clouds, that all the skies invade, 
Draw o'er his sullied orb a dismal shade. 
A squall deep low'ring blots the southern sky, 
Before whose boisterous breath the waters fly, 
Its weight the topsails can no more sustain, 
Reef topsails, reef, the boatswain calls again ! 
The haliardsf and top-bowlinesj soon are gone, 
To clue-lines§ and reef-tackles next they run : 
The shivering sails descend : and now they square 
The yards, while ready sailors mount in air. 



* The topsails are large square sails of the second degree in height 
and magnitude. Reefs are certain divisions or spaces by which the 
principal sails are reduced when the wind increases, and again en- 
larged proportionably when its force abates. 

f Haliards are either single ropes or tackles, by which the sails are 
hoisted up and lowered when the sail is to be extended or reduced. 

% Bow-lines are ropes intended to keep the windward-edge of the 
sail steady, and prevent it from shaking in an unfavourable wind. 

§ Clue-lines are ropes used to truss up the clues, or lower corners 
of the principal sails to their respective yards, particularly when the 
sail is to be close-reefed or furled. — Reef-tackles are ropes employed 
to facilitate the operation of reefing, by confining the extremities of 
the reef close up to the yard so that the interval becomes slack, and 
is therefore easily rolled up and fastened to the yard by the points 
employed for this purpose. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 43 

The weather-earings,* and the lee they past ; 

The reefs en roll' d, and every point made fast. 

Their task above thus finish'd, they descend, 

And vigilant th' approaching squall attend. 

It comes resistless, and with foaming sweep 

Upturns the whitening surface of the deep, 

In such a tempest, borne to deeds of death, 

The wayward sisters scour the blasted heath. 

With ruin pregnant now the clouds impend, 

And storm and cataract tumultuous blend. 

Deep on her side the reeling vessel lies — 

Brail up the mizenf quick ! the master cries. 

Man the clue-garnets! J let the main-sheet§ fly ! — 

The boisterous squall still presses from on high. 

And swift, and fatal as the lightning's course, 

Thro' the torn main-sail bursts with thundering forde. 

W T hile the rent canvass fluttered in the wind, 

Still on her flank the stooping bark inclin'd. — 



* Earings are small cords, by which the upper corners of the prin- 
cipal sails, and also the extremities of the reefs, are fastened to the 
yard-arms. 

t The mizen is a large sail of an oblong figure extended upon the 
mizen-mast. 

X Clue-garnets are employed for the same purposes on the main- 
sail and fore-sail as the clue-lines are upon all other square-sails 
See note §> page 42. 

§> It is necessary in this place to remark, that the sheets, which are 
universally mistaken by the English poets and their readers, for the 
sails themselves, are no other than the ropes used to extend the clues 
or lower corners of the sails to which they are attached. To the main- 
sail and fore-sail there is a sheet and a tack on each side ; the latter of 
which is a thick rope serving to confine the weather-clue of the sail 
down to the ship's side, whilst the former draws out the lee-clue or 
lower corner on the opposite side. Tacks are only used in a side wind. 



44 THE SHIPWRECK. 

Bear up the helm* a-weather! Rodmond cries; 
Swift at the word, the helm a-weather flies. 
The prow with secret instinct veers apace ; 
And now the fore-sail right athwart they brace : 
With equal sheets restrain' d the bellying sail 
Spreads abroad concave to the sweeping gale. 
While o'er the foam the ship impetuous flies, 
Th' attentive timoneerf the helm applies. 
As in pursuit along the aerial way, 
With ardent eye the falcon marks his prey, 
Each motion watches of the doubtful chace, 
Obliquely wheeling thro' the liquid space ; 
So, govern'd by the steersman's glowing hands, 
The regent helm her motion still commands. 

But now the transient squall to leeward past, 
Again she rallies to the sullen blast. 
The helm to starboard} turns ; with wings inclin'd, 
The sidelong canvass clasps the faithless wind. 
The mizen draws; she springs aloof once more, 
While the fore-stay-sail§ balances before. 
The fore-sail brac'd obliquely to the wind, 
They near the prow the extended tack confin'd : 



* The helm is said to be a-weather wh en the bar by which it is 
managed is turned to the side of the ship next the wind. 

t Timoneer, (from timonier, Fr.) the helmsman or steersman. 

I The helm being turned to starboard, or to the right side of the 
ship, directs the prow to the left, or to port, and vice versa. Hence 
the helm being put a-starboard, when the ship is running northward, 
directs her prow towards the west. 

§ This sail, which is with more propriety called the fore-top-mast - 
stay-sail, is a triangular sail that runs upon the fore-top-mast-stay, 
over the bow-sprit. It is used to command the fore part of the ship, 
and counter-balance the sails extended towards the stern. See also 
the last note of this Canto. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 

Then on the leeward sheet the seamen bend ; 
And haul the bowline to the bowsprit end. 
To topsails next they haste ; the bunt-lines gone, 
The clue-lines thro' their wheel'd machinery run : 
On either side below the sheets are mann'd ; 
Again the fluttering sails their skirts expand. 
Once more the topsails, tho' with humbler plume, 
Mounting aloft their ancient posts resume. 
Again the bow-lines and the yards are brac'd;* 
And all the entangled cords in order plac'd. 

The sail, by whirlwinds thus so lately rent, 
In tatter' d ruins fluttering is unbent. 
With brails refix'd another soon prepar'd, 
Ascending, spreads along beneath the yard. 
To each yard-arm the head-ropef they extend, 
And soon their earings and their roebinsj bend. 
That task perform'd they first the braces§ slack, 
Then to its station dragg'd the unwilling tack ; 
And, while the lee clue-garnet's lower'd away, 
Taught aft the sheet, they tally and belay.|| 

Now to the north, from Afric's burning shore, 
A troop of porpoises their course explore : 



* A yard is said to be braced when it is turned about the mast hori- 
zontally, either to the right or left : the ropes employed in this ser- 
vice are accordingly called braces. 

t The head-rope is a cord to which the upper part of the sail is 
sewed. 

J Rope-bands, pronounced roebins, are small cords, used to fasten 
the upper edge of any sail to its respective yard. 

§ Because the lee-brace confines the yard so that the tack will not 
come down to its place till the braces are cast loose. 

|| Taught implies stiff, tense, or extended straight : and tally is a 
phrase particularly applied to the operation of hauling aft the sheet*, 
or drawing them towards the ship's stern. To belay is to fasten. 



46 THE SHIPWRECK. 

In curling wreathes they gambol on the tide, 
Now bound aloft, now down the billow glide. 
Their tracks awhile the hoary waves retain, 
That burn in sparkling trails along the main. 
These fleetest courses of the finny race, 
When threatening clouds th' aetherial vault deface. 
Their rout to leeward still sagacious form, 
To shun the fury of th' approaching storm. 

Fair Candia now no more, beneath her lee, 
Protects the vessel from th' insulting sea ; 
Round her broad arms, impatient of control, 
Rous'd from their secret deeps the billows roll. 
Sunk were the bulwarks of the friendly shore, 
And all the scene an hostile aspect wore. 
The flattering wind, that late with promis'd aid, 
From Candia's bay the unwilling ship betray'd, 
No longer fawns beneath the fair disguise, 
But like a ruffian on his quarry flies. — 
Tost on the tide she feels the tempest blow, 
And dreads the vengeance of so fell a foe. 
As the proud horse, with costly trappings gay, 
Exulting prances to the bloody fray, 
Spurning the ground, he glories in his might, 
But reels tumultuous in the shock of fight. 
Even so, caparison'd in gaudy pride, 
The bounding vessel dances on the tide. — 
Fierce and more fierce the southern demon blew, 
And more incens'd the roaring waters grew. 
The ship no longer can her topsail spread ; 
And every hope of fairer skies is fled. 
Bowlines and haliards are relax'd again ; 
Clue-lines haul'd down, and sheets let fly amain ; 
Clu'd up each top-sail, and by braces squar'd; 
The seamen climb aloft on either yard. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 47 

They furPd the sail, and pointed to the wind 

The yard, by rolling tackles* then confin'd. 

While o'er the ship the gallant boatswain flies, 

Like a hoarse mastiff through the storm he cries ; 

Prompt to direct th' unskilful still appears ; 

Th 5 expert he praises, and the fearful cheers. 

Now some to strike top-gallant yardst attend ? 

Some travellers^ up the weather backstays^ send ; 

At each mast-head the top-ropes|| others bend. 

The youngest sailors from the yards above, 

Their parrels,1T lifts,** and braces soon remove : 

Then top'd an end, and to the travellers tied, 

Charg'd with their sails, they down the backstays slide. 

The yards secure along the boomstt reclin'd, 

While some the flying cords aloft confin'd. — 

* The rolling tackle is an assemblage of pullies, used to confine 
the yard to the weather-side of the mast, and prevent the former from 
rubbing against the latter by the fluctuating motion of the ship in a 
turbulent sea. 

t It is usual to send down the top-gallant yards on the approach of 
a storm. They are the highest yards that are rigged in a ship. 

J Travellers are slender iron rings, encircling the back-stays, and 
used to facilitate the hoisting or lowering of the top-gallant yards 
by confining them to the back-stays, in their ascent or descent, so as 
to prevent them from swinging about by the agitation of the vessel. 

§ Backstays are long ropes, extending from the right and left side 
of the ship to the topmast-heads, which they are intended to secure 
by counteracting the effort of the wind upon the sails. 

|| Top-ropes are the cords by which the top-gallant-yards are hoist- 
ed up from the deck, or lowered again in stormy weather. 

IT The pan el, which is usually a moveable band of rope, is employ- 
ed to confine the yard to its respective mast. 

** Lifts are ropes extending from the head of any mast to the ex- 
tremities of its particular yard, to support the weight of the latter ; 
to retain it in balance j or to raise one yard-arm higher than the other, 
which is accordingly called topping. 

ft The booms in this place imply any masts or yards lying on deck 



48 THE SHIPWRECK. 

Their sails reduc'd, and all the rigging clear. 
Awhile the crew relax from toils severe. 
Awhile their spirits, with fatigue opprest, 
In vain expect th' alternate hour of rest : 
But with redoubling force the tempests blow, 
And watery hills in fell succession flow. 
A dismal shade o'ercasts the frowning skies ; 
New troubles grow ; new difficulties rise. 
No season this from duty to descend ! 
All hands on deck, th' eventual hour attend. 

His race perform'd, the sacred lamp of day 
Now dipt in western clouds his parting ray, 
His sickening fires, half lost in ambient haze, 
Refract along the dusk a crimzon blaze ; 
Till deep immerg'd the languid orb declines, 
And now to cheerless night the sky resigns ; 
Sad evening's hour, how different from the past ! 
No flaming pomp, no blushing glories cast. 
No ray of friendly light is seen around : 
The moon and stars in hopeless shade are drown'd. 

The ship no longer can her courses* bear : 
To reef the courses is the master's care: 
The sailors, summon'd aft, a daring band ! 
Attend th' enfolding brails at his command. 
But here the doubtful officers dispute, 
Till skill and judgment prejudice confute. — 
Rodmond, whose genius never soar'd beyond 
The narrow rules of art his youth had con'd ; 

in reserve, to supply the place of others which may be carried away 
by distress of weather, &c. 

* The courses are generally understood to be the mainsail, foresail, 
and mizen, which are the largest and lowest sails of their several 
masts 5 the term is, however, sometimes taken in a larger sense. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 49 

Still to the hostile fury of the wind 

Releas'd the sheet, and kept the tack confin'd. 

To long-tried practice obstinately warm, 

He doubts conviction, and relies on form, 

But the sage master this advice declines ; 

With whom Arion in opinion joins — 

The watchful seaman, whose sagacious eye 

On sure experience may with truth rely, 

Who, from the reigning cause, foretells th' effect, 

This barbarous practice ever will reject. 

For fluttering loose in air, the rigid sail 

Soon flits to ruins in the furious gale. 

And he who strives the tempest to disarm, 

Will never first embrail the lee yard-arm. 

The master said; — obedient to command, 

To raise the tack, the ready sailors stand.* — 

Gradual it loosens, while the involving clue, * 

Swell'd by the wind, aloft unruffling flew. 

The sheet and weather-bracef they now stand by : 

The lee clue-garnet and the bunt-lines ply. 

Thus all prepar'd, Let go the sheet ! he cries ; 

Impetuous round the ringing wheels it flies ; 

Shivering at first, till by the blast impelFd, 

High o'er the lee-yard arm the canvass swell'd: 



* It has been remarked before in note § page 43, that the tack is 
always fastened to windward ; accordingly, as soon as it is cast loose, 
and the clue-garnet hauled up, the weather-clue of the sail imme- 
diately mounts to the yard; and this operation must be carefully per- 
formed in a storm, to prevent the sail from splitting or being torn 
to pieces by shivering. 

f It is necessary to pull in the weather-brace whenever the sheet 
is cast off, to preserve the sail from shaking violently. 



50 THE SHIPWRECK. 

By spilling-lines* embraced with brails confin'd, 
It lies at length unshaken by the wind. 
The foresail then secur'd with equal care, 
Again to reef the mainsail they repair.— 
While some high-mounted over-haul the tye, 
Below the down-haul tacklef others ply. 
Jears,:}: lifts, and brails, a seaman each attends, 
Along the mast the willing yard descends ! 
When lower' d sufficient they securely brace ; 
And fix the rolling tackle in its place ; 
The reef-lines§ and their earings now prepar'd. 
Mounting on pliant shrouds, || they man the yard. 
Far on the extremes two able hands appear, 
Ariojv there, the hardy boatswain here ; 
That in the van to front the tempest hung ; 
This round the lee yard-arm, ill-omen' d ! clung ; 

* The spilling-lines, which are only used on particular occasions in 
tempestuous weather, are employed to draw together and confine the 
belly of the sail, when it is inflated by the wind over the yard. 

t The violence of the wind forces the yard so much outward from 
the mast on these occasions, that it cannot be easily lowered so as to 
reef the sail, without the application of a tackle to haul it down on 
the mast. This is afterwards converted into rolling tackle. See 
note * page 47. 

X Jears are the same to the main-sail, fore-sail, and mizen, as the 
haliards (See note t page 42) are to all inferior sails. The tye is the 
upper part of the jears. 

§ Reef-lines are only used to reef the main-sail and fore-sail. They 
are passed in spiral turns through the eye-let holes of the reef, and 
over the head of the sails between the rope-band legs, till they reach 
the extremities of the reef to which they are firmly extended, so as 
to lace the reef close up to the yard. 

jj Sh rouds are thick ropes, stretching from the mast-head down- 
wards to the outside o the ship, serving to support the masts. They 
are also used as a range of rope-ladders by which the seamen ascend 
or descend, to perform whatever is necessary about the sails and 
rigging. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 51 

Each earing, to its station, first they bend ; 
The reef-band* then along the yard extend ; 
The circling earings, round th' extremes entwin'd, 
By outer and by inner turns t they bind. 
From hand to hand, the reef-lines, next receiv'd, 
Through eye-let holes and roebin-legs were reev'd. 
The reef in double folds involved they lay ; 
Strain'd the firm cord, and either end belay. 

Hadst thou, Arion ! held the leeward post, 
While on the yard by mountain billows tost, 
Perhaps oblivion o'er our tragic tale, 
Had then for ever drawn her dusky veil. — 
But ruling heaven prolong'd thy vital date^ 
Severer ills to suffer and relate ! 
For, while their orders those aloft attend, 
To furl the mainsail, or on deck descend, 
A sea,t upsurging with tremendous roll, 
To instant ruin seems to doom the whole. 
friends, secure your hold ! Arion cries : — 
It comes all dreadful, stooping from the skies! 
Uplifted on its horrid edge, she feels 
The shock, and on her side half-bury'd reels : 
The sail, half-bury'd in the whelming wave, 
A fearful warning to the seamen gave : 
While from its margin, terrible to tell ! 
Three sailors with their gallant boatswain fell. 

* The reef-band is a long piece of canvass sewed across the sail, to 
strengthen the canvass in the place where the eye-let holes of Ihe 
reef are formed. 

t The outer turns of the earing serve to extend the sail along the 
yard ; and the inner turns are employed to confine its head-rope close 
to its surface. See note f page 45. 

X A sea is the general name given by sailors to a wave, or billow ; 
hence when a wave bursts over the deck, the vessel is said to hav e 
shipped a sea. 



52 THE SHIPWRECK. 

Torn with resistless fury from their hold, 
In vain their struggling arms the yard enfold : 
In vain to grapple, flying cords they try ; 
The cords, alas ! a solid gripe deny ! 
Prone on the midnight surge, with panting breath 
They cry for aid, and long contend with death. 
High o'er their heads the rolling billows sweep ; 
And down they sink in everlasting sleep. — 
Bereft of power to help, their comrades see 
The wretched victims die beneath the lee ; 
With fruitless sorrow their lost state bemoan : 
Perhaps a fatal prelude to their own. 

In dark suspense on deck the pilots stand, 
Nor can determine on the next command. 
Tho' still they knew the vessel's armed side 
Impenetrable to the clasping tide ; 
Though still the waters, by no secret wound, 
A passage to her deep recesses found ; 
Surrounding evils yet they ponder o'er, 
A storm, a dangerous sea, and leeward shore ! 
Should they, tho' reef'd, again their sails extend, 
Again in fluttering fragments they may rend ; 
Or should they stand beneath the dreadful strain, 
The down-prest ship may never rise again ; 
Too late to weather* now Morea's land ; 
Yet verging fast to Athen's rocky strand. — 
Thus they lament the consequence severe, 
Where perils unallay'd by hope appear 
Long in their minds revolving each event, 
At last to furl the courses they consent. 



* To weather a shore, is to pass to the windward of it, which at 
this time is prevented by the violence of the storm. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 53 

That done, to reef the mizen next agree, 

And try* beneath it sidelong in the sea. 

Now down the mast the sloping yard declin'd, 
Till by the jears and topping-liftt confin'd. 
The head, with doubling canvass fenc'd around, 
In balance, near the lofty peak they bound. 
The reef enwrapt, th' inserted knittles ty'd, 
To hoist the shorten'd sail again they hy'd. 
The order given, the yard aloft they sway'd ; 
The brails relax'd, the extended sheet belay' d. 
The helm its post forsook, and, lash'd a-lee,t 
Inclin'd the wayward prow to front the sea. 

When sacred Orpheus on the Stygian coast. 
With notes divine implor'd his consort lost ; 
Tho' round him perils grew in fell array : 
And fates and furies stood to bar his way ; 
Not more adventurous was the attempt to move 
The powers of hell, with strains of heavenly love, 
Than mine to bid the unwilling Muse explore 
The wilderness of rude mechanic lore. 
Such toil th' unwearied Daedalus endur'd 
When in the Cretan labyrinth immur'd ; 



* To try, is to lay the ship with her side nearly in the direction of 
the wind and sea, with the head somewhat inclined to the wind- 
ward *, the helm being- laid a-lee to retain her in that position. See 
a further illustration of this in the last note of this Canto. 

t The topping-lift, which tops the upper end of the mizen-yard 
(See note % page 47) j this line and the six following describe the 
operation of reefing and balancing the mizen. The reef of this sail 
is towards the lower end, the knittles being small short lines used in 
the room of points for this purpose, (See note * p. 42, and note § page 
42) 5 they are accordingly knotted under the foot-rope, or lower edge 
of the sail. 

f Lash'd a-lee, is fastened to the lee-side. (See note f page 41.) 
E 2 



54 THE SHIPWRECK. 

Till art her salutary help bestow'd, 

To guide him through that intricate abode. 

Thus long entangled in a thorny way, 

That never heard the sweet Pierian lay, 

The Muse, that tun'd to barbarous sounds her string, 

Now spreads like Daedalus a bolder wing; 

The verse begins in softer strains to flow, 

Replete with sad variety of wo. 

As yet, amid this elemental war, 
That scatters desolation from afar, 
Nor toil, nor hazard, nor distress appear 
To sink the seamen with unmanly fear. 
Though their firm hearts no pageant-honour boast, 
They scorn the wretch that trembles in his post, 
Who from the face of danger strives to turn, 
Indignant from the social hour they spurn. 
Though now full oft they felt the raging tide, 
In proud rebellion climb the vessel's side, 
No future ills unknown their souls appal ; 
They know no danger, or they scorn it all ! 
But even the generous spirits of the brave, 
Subdu'd by toil, a friendly respite crave : 
A short repose alone their thoughts implore, 
Their harass'd powers by slumber to restore. 
Far other cares the master's mind employ ; 
Approaching perils all his hopes destroy. 
In vain he spreads the graduated chart, 
And bounds the distance by the rules of art : 
In vain athwart the mimic seas expands 
The compasses to circumjacent lands. 
Ungrateful task ! for no asylum trac'd, 
A passage open'd from the wat'ry waste. 
Fate seem'd to guard, with adamantine mound. 
The path to every friendly port around. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 55 

While Albert thus, with secret doubts dismay' d, 

The geometric distances survey'd, 

On deck the watchful Rodmond cries aloud, 

Secure your lives, — grasp every man a shroud ! — 

Rous'd from his trance he mounts with eyes aghast ; 

When o 1 er the ship in undulation vast, 

A giant surge down-rushes from on high, 

And fore and aft dissever'd ruins lie. — 

As when, Britannia's empire to maintain, 

Great Hawke descends in thunder on the main ; 

Around the brazen voice of battle roars, 

And fatal lightnings blast the hostile shores : 

Beneath the storm their shatter'd navies groan ; 

The trembling deeps recoil from zone to zone : 

Thus the torn vessel felt the enormous stroke ; 

The boats beneath the thundering deluge broke : 

Forth-started from their planks the bursting rings, 

Th' extended cordage all asunder springs. 

The pilot's fair machinery strews the deck, 

And cards and needles swim in floating wreck. 

The balanc'd mizen, rending to the head, 

In streaming ruins from the margin fled, 

The sides convulsive shook on groaning beams, 

And rent with labour, yawn'd the pitchy seams. 

They found the well,* and terrible to hear ! 

Five feet immers'd along the line appear, 

At either pump they ply the clanking brake,f 

And turn by turn th' ungrateful office take. 

* The well is an apartment in a ship's hole, serving 1 to inclose the 
pumps. It is sounded by dropping a measured iron rod down into 
it by a long line. Hence the increase ordiminution of the leaks are 
easily discovered. 

t The brake is the lever or handle of the pump, by which it is 
wrought. 



56 THE SHIPWRECK. 

Rodmond, Arion, and Palemon here, 
At this sad task, all diligent appear, 
As some fair castle, shook by rude alarms, 
Opposes long the approach of hostile arms : 
Grim war around her plants his black array, 
And death and sorrow mark'd his horrid way, 
Till in some destin'd hour, against her wall, 
In tenfold rage the fatal thunders fall : 
The ramparts crack ; the solid bulwarks rend ; 
And hostile troops the shatter'd breach ascend. 
Her valiant inmates still the foe retard, 
Resolv'd till death their sacred charge to guard. 

So the brave mariners their pumps attend, 
And help incessant, by rotation lend : 
But all in vain, — for now the sounding cord, 
Updrawn, an undiminish'd depth explor'd. 
Nor this severe distress is found alone ; 
The ribs opprest by ponderous cannon groan. 
Deep rolling from the wat'ry volume's height, 
The tortur'd sides seem bursting with their weight, 
So reels Pelorus, with convulsive throes, 
When in his veins the burning earthquake glows ; 
Hoarse thro' his entrails roars th' infernal flame, 
And central thunders rend his groaning frame. — 
Accumulated mischiefs thus arise, 
And fate vindictive all their skill defies. 
One only remedy the season gave ; 
To plunge the nerves of battle in the wave : 
From their high platforms thus th' artillery thrown, 
Eas'd of their load, the timbers less shall groan : 
But arduous is the task their lot requires ; 
A task that hovering fate alone inspires ! 
For, while intent the yawning decks to ease, 
That ever and anon are drench' d with seas, 



THE SHIPWRECK. 57 

Some fatal billow with recoiling sweep, 
May whirl the helpless wretches in the deep. 

No season this for counsel or delay ! 
Too soon th' eventful moments haste away ! 
Here perseverance, with each help of art, 
Must join the boldest efforts of the heart 
These only now their misery can relieve ; 
These only now a dawn of safety give ! 
While o'er the quivering deck, from van to rear, 
Broad surges roll in terrible career, 
Rodmond, Arion, and a chosen crew, 
This office in the face of death pursue. 
The wheel'd artillery o'er the deck to guide, 
Rodmond descending claim'd the weather-side. 
Fearless of heart the chief his orders gave ; 
Fronting the rude assaults of every wave. 
Like some strong watch-tower nodding o'er the deep, 
Whose rocky base the foaming waters sweep, 
Untam'd he stood ; the stern aerial war 
Had mark'd his honest face with many a scar. — 
Meanwhile Arion, traversing the waist,* 
The cordage of the leeward-guns unbrac'd, 
And pointed crows beneath the metal plac'd. 
Watching the roll, their forelocks they withdrew, 
And from their beds the reeling cannon threw. 
Then, from the windward battlements unbound, 
Rodmond's associates wheel'd the artillery round, 
Pointed with iron fangs, their bars beguile 
The ponderous arms across the steep defile ; 
Then, hurPd from sounding hinges o'er the side, 
Thundering they plunge into the flashing tide. 

* The waist of a ship of this kind is an hollow space, about five 
feet in depth, between the elevations of the quarter-deck and fore- 
castle, and having the upper-deck for its base, or platform. 



58 THE SHIPWRECK. 

The ship thus eas'd some little respite finds, 
In this rude conflict of the seas and winds. 
Such ease Alcides felt when clogg'd with gore, 
Th' evenom'd mantle from his side he tore ; 
When stung with burning pain, he strove too late, 
To stop the swift career of cruel fate. 
Yet then his heart one ray of hope procur'd, 
Sad harbinger of seven-fold pangs endur'd ! 
Such, and so short, the pause of wo she found ! 
Cimmerian darkness shades the deep around, 
Save when the lightnings, gleaming on the sight. 
Flash thro' the gloom a pale disastrous light. 
Above all aether, fraught with scenes of wo, 
With grim destruction threatens all below. 
Beneath the storm-lash'd surges furious rise, 
And wave uproll'd on wave, assails the skies ; 
With ever-floating bulwarks they surround 
The ship, half-swallow'd in the black profound! 
With ceaseless hazard and fatigue opprest, 
Dismay and anguish every heart possest I 
For while with boundless inundation o'er 
The sea-beat ship th' involving waters roar, 
Displac'd beneath by her capacious womb, 
They rage their ancient station to resume ; 
By secret ambushes their force to prove, 
Thro' many a winding channel first they rove ; 
Till, gathering fury, like the fever'd blood, 
Thro' her dark veins, they roll a rapid flood. 
While unrelenting thus the leaks they found, 
The pumps with ever-clanking strokes resound. 
Around each leaping valve, by toil subdu'd, 
The tough bull-hide must ever be renew'd. 
Their sinking hearts unusual horrors chill : 
And down their weary limbs thick dews distil. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 59 

No ray of light their dying hope redeems ! 
Pregnant with some new wo each moment teems ! 

Again the chief th' instructive draught extends, 
And o'er the figur'd plain attentive bends : 
To him the motion of each orb was known, 
That wheels around the sun's refulgent throne : 
But here alas ! his science naught avails ! 
Art droops unequal, and experience fails : 
The different traverses, since twilight made, 
He on the hydrographic circle laid : 
Then the broad angle of lee-way* explor'd, 
As swept across the graduated chord. 
1 Her place discover'd by the rules of art, 
Unusual terrors shook the master's heart ; 
When Falconera's rugged isle he found, 
Within her drift, with shelves and breakers bound ; 
For, if on those destructive shallows tost, 
The helpless bark with all her crew are lost : 
As fatal still appears, that danger o'er, 
The steep St. George, and rocky Gardalor. 
With him the pilots, of their hopeless state 
In mournful consultation now debate. 
Not more perplexing doubts her chiefs appal, 
When some proud city verges to her fall ; 
While ruin glares around, and pale affright 
Convenes her councils in the dead of night — 
No blazon'd trophies o'er their concave spread, 
Nor storied pillars rais'd aloft their head ; 
But here the queen of shade around them threw 
Her dragon-wing, disastrous to the view ! 

* The lee-way, or drift, which in this place are synonymous terms, 
is the movem ent by which a ship is driven sideways at the mercy of 
the wind and sea, when she is deprived of the government of the 
sails and helm. 



60 THE SHIPWRECK. 

Dire was the scene, with whirlwind, hail and shower; 

Black melancholy rul'd the fearful hour ! 

Beneath, tremendous roll'd the flashing tide, 

Where fate on every billow seem'd to ride *• 

Inclos'd with ills, by peril unsubdu'd, 

Great in distress the master-seaman stood : 

Skill'd to command ; deliberate to advise ; 

Expert in action ; and in council wise ; 

Thus to his partners, by the crew unheard, 

The dictates of his soul the chief refer'd : 

Ye faithful mates, who all my troubles share, 
Approv'd companions of your master's care ! 
To you, alas ! 'twere fruitless now to tell 
Our sad distress, already known too well ! 
This morn with favouring gales the port we left, 
Tho' now of every flattering hope bereft : 
No skill nor long experience could forecast 
Th' unseen approach of this destructive blast. 
These seas, where storms, at various seasons blow, 
No reigning winds nor certain omens know. 
The hour, th' occasion all your skill demands ; 
A leaky ship, embay'd by dangerous lands. 
Our bark no transient jeopardy surrounds; 
Groaning she lies beneath unnumber'd wounds. 
'Tis ours the doubtful remedy to find ; 
To shun the fury of the seas and wind. 
For in this hollow swell, with labour sore, 
Her flank can bear the bursting floods no more : 
Yet this or other ills she must endure ; 
A dire disease, and desperate is the cure ! 
Thus two expedients offer'd to your choice, 
Alone require your counsel and your voice. 
These only in our power are left to try; 
To perish here, or from the storm to fly. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 61 

The doubtful balance in my judgment cast, 

For various reasons I prefer the last. 

'Tis true, the vessel and her costly freight, 

To me consign'd, my orders only wait; 

Yet since the charge of every life is mine, 

To equal votes our counsels I resign ; 

Forbid it Heaven, that, in this dreadful hour, 

I claim the dangerous reins of purblind power ! 

But should we now resolve to bear away, 

Our hopeless state can suffer no delay. 

Nor can we, thus bereft of every sail, 

Attempt to steer obliquely on the gale. 

For then, if broaching sideway to the sea, 

Our dropsy'd ship may founder by the lee : 

No more obedient to the pilot's power, 

Th' o'erwhelming wave may soon her frame devour. 
He said : the listening mates with fix'd regard, 

And silent reverence, his opinion heard. 

Important was the question in debate, 

And o'er their counsels hung impending fate. 

Rodmond, in many a scene of peril try'd, 

Had oft the master's happier skill descry'd : 

Yet now, the hour, the scene, the occasion known, 

Perhaps with equal right prefer'd his own. 
Of long experience in the naval art, 
Blunt was his speech, and naked was his heart : 
Alike to him each climate and each blast ; 
The first in danger, in retreat the last: 
Sagacious balancing th' oppos'd events, 
From Albert his opinion thus dissents. 

Too true the perils of the present hour, 
Where toils succeeding toils our strength o'erpower ! 
Yet whither can we turn, what road pursue, 
With death before still opening on the view ? 
F 



62 THE SHIPWRECK. 

Our bark, 'tis true, no shelter here can find, 
Sore shattered by the ruffian seas and wind. 
Yet with what hope of refuge can we flee, 
Chas'd by the tempest and outrageous sea ? 
For while its violence the tempest keeps, 
Bereft of every sail we roam the deeps : 
At random driven, to present death we haste ; 
And one short hour perhaps may be our last. 
In vain the gulph of Corinth, on our lee, 
Now opens to her ports a passage free ; 
Since, if before the blast the vessel flies, 
Full in her track unnumber'd dangers rise. 
Here Falconera spreads her lurking snares ; 
There distant Greece her rugged shelves prepares : 
Should once her bottom strike that rocky shore, 
The splitting bark that instant were no more ; 
Nor she alone, but with her all the crew, 
Beyond relief, were doom'd to perish too. 
Thus if to scud too rashly we consent, 
Too late in fatal hour we may repent. 

Then of our purpose this appears the scope, 
To weigh the danger with the doubtful hope. 
Though sorely buffetted by every sea, 
Our hull unbroken long may try a-lee. 
The crew, though harass'd long with toils severe, 
Still at their pumps perceive no hazards near: 
Shall we, incautious, then the danger tell, 
At once their courage and their hope to quell? 
Prudence forbids! — This southern tempest soon 
May change its quarter with the changing moon. 
Its rage, tho' terrible, may soon subside, 
Nor into mountains lash th ? unruly tide. 
These leaks shall then decrease ; the sails once more 
Direct our course to some relieving shore. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 63 

Thus while he spoke, around from man to man, 
At either pump a hollow murmur ran. 
For while the vessel, thro' unnumber'd chinks, 
Above, below, th ? invading waters drinks, 
Sounding her depth, they ey'd the wetted scale, 
And lo ! the leaks o'er all their powers prevail. 
Yet in their post, by terrors unsubdu'd, 
They with redoubling force their task pursu'd. 

And now the senior pilots seem'd to wait 
Arion's voice, to close the dark debate. 
Tho' many a bitter storm, with peril fraught, 
In Neptune's school the wandering stripling taught, 
Not twice nine summers yet matur'd his thought. 
So oft he bled by fortune's cruel dart, 
It fell at last innoxious on his heart. 
His mind still shunning care with secret hate, 
In patient indolence resign'd to fate. 
But now the horrors that around him roll, 
Thus rous'd to action his rekindling soul. 

With fix'd attention, pondering in my mind 
The dark distresses on each side combin'd ; 
While here we linger in the pass of fate, 
I see no moment left for sad debate. 
For, some decision if we wish to form, 
Ere yet our vessel sink beneath the storm, 
Her shatter'd state, and yon desponding crew, 
At once suggest what measures to pursue. 
The labouring hull already seems half-fill 'd 
With waters, through an hundred leaks distilFd. 
As in a dropsy, wallowing with her freight, 
Half-drown'd she lies, a dead, inactive weight ! 
Thus drench'd by every wave, her riven deck, 
Stript and defenceless, floats a naked wreck ; 



64 THE SHIPWRECK. 

Her wounded flanks no longer can sustain 

These fell invasions of the bursting main ; 

At every pitch, the o'erwhelming billows bend, 

Beneath their load, the quivering bowsprit-end. 

A fearful warning ! since the masts on high, 

On that support, with trembling hope rely. 

At either pump our seamen pant for breath, 

In dark dismay anticipating death. 

Still all our powers th' increasing leaks defy : 

We sink at sea, no shore, no haven nigh. 

One dawn of hope yet breaks athwart the gloom, 

To light and save us from the watery tomb ;" 

That bids us shun the death impending here ; 

Fly from the following blast, and shoreward steer. 

'Tis urg'd indeed, the fury of the gale 
Precludes the help of every guiding sail ; 
And driven before it on the wat'ry waste, 
To rocky shores and scenes of death we haste. 
But haply Falconera we may shun : 
And far to Grecian coasts is yet the run : 
Less harass'd then, our scudding ship may bear 
The assaulting surge repel'd upon her rear. 
Even then the wearied storm as soon shall die ? 
Or less torment the groaning pines on high . 
Should we at last be driven by dire decree, 
Too near the fatal margin of the sea, 
The hull dismasted there awhile may ride, 
With lengthened cables on the raging tide. 
Perhaps kind Heaven, with interposing power, 
May curb the tempest ere that dreadful hour. 
But here ingulph'd, and foundering while we stay, 
Fate hovers o'er, and marks us for her prey. 

He said : Palemon saw, with grief of heart, 
The storm prevailing o'er the pilot's art : 



THE SHIPWRECK. 65 

In silent terror and distress involv'd, 
He heard their last alternative resolv'd. 
High beat his bosom ; with such fear subdu'd, 
Beneath the gloom of some enchanted wood ; 
Oft in old time, the wandering swain explored 
The midnight wizards, breathing rights abhor'd : 
Trembling approach'd their incantations fell, 
And chilPd with horror, heard the songs of helL 
Arion saw, with secret anguish mov'd, 
The deep affliction of the friend he lov'd ; 
And all awake to friendship's genial heat, 
His bosom felt consenting tumults beat. 
Alas! no season this for tender love ; 
Far hence the music of the myrtle grove !— 
With comfort's soothing voice, from hope deriv'd* 
Palemon's drooping spirit he reviv'd. 
For consolation, oft with healing art, 
Returns the jarring numbers of the heart. — 
Now had the pilots all the events revolv'd, 
And on their final refuge thus resolv'd, 
When, like the faithful shepherd, who beholds 
Some prowling wolf approach his fleecy folds ; 
To the brave crew, whom racking doubts perplex, 
The dreadful purpose Albert thus directs. 

Unhappy partners in a wayward fate ! 
Whose gallant spirits now are known too late ; 
Ye ! who unmov'd behold this angry storm 
With terrors all the rolling deep deform ; 
Who, patient in adversity, still bear 
The firmest front when greatest ills are near! 
The truth, though grievous, I must now revea^ 
That long in vain I purpos'd to conceal. 
Ingulph'd, all help of art we vainly try, 
To weather leeward shores, alas 1 too nigh 
F 2 



06 THE SHIPWRECK. 

Our crazy bark no longer can abide 
The seas that thunder o'er her batterM side : 
And, while the leaks a fatal warning give, 
That in this raging sea she cannot live, 
One only refuge from despair we find ; 
At once to wear and scud* before the wind. 
Perhaps even then to ruin we may steer ; 
For broken shores beneath our lee appear ; 
But that's remote, and instant death is here : 
Yet there, by heaven's assistance, we may gain 
Some creek or inlet of the Grecian main ; 
Or, shelter' d by some rock, at anchor ride, 
Till with abating rage the blast subside. 

But if, determin'd by the will of Heaven, 
Our helpless bark at last ashore is driven, 
These counsels follow'd, from the wat'ry grave 
Our floating sailors in the surf may save. 

And first let all our axes be secur'd, 
To cut the masts and rigging from aboard. 
Then to the quarters bind each plank and oar, 
To float between the vessel and the shore. 
The longest cordage too must be convey'd 
On deck, and to the weather-rails belay'd. 
So they, who haply reach alive the land, 
Th' extended lines may fasten on the strand. 
Whene'er, loud thundering on the leeward shore, 
While yet aloof we hear the breakers roar, 
Thus for the terrible event prepared, 
Brace fore and aft to starboard every yard. 
So shall our masts swim lighter on the wave, 
.And from the broken rocks our seamen save. 



* For an explanation of these manoeuvres the reader is referred 
to the test note of this Canto. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 67 

Then westward turn the stem, that every mast 
May shoreward fall, when from the vessel cast. 
When o'er her side once more the billows bound, 
Ascend the rigging till she strike s the ground : 
And when you hear aloft th' alarming shock 
That strikes her bottom on some pointed rock, 
The boldest of our sailors must descend, 
The dangerous business of the deck to tend ; 
Then each, secur'd by some convenient cord, 
Should cut the shrouds and rigging from the board. 
Let the broad axes next assail each mast ; 
And booms and oars and rafts to leeward cast. 
Thus, while the cordage stretch'd ashore may guide 
Our brave companions thro' the swelling tide, 
This floating lumber shall sustain them o'er 
The rocky shelves in safety to the shore. 
But as your firmest succour, till the last, 
O cling securely on each faithful mast ! 
Tho' great the danger and the task severe, 
Yet bow not to the tyranny of fear ! 
If once that slavish yoke your spirits quell, 
Adieu to hope ! to life itself farewell ! 

-I know, among you some full oft have view'd, 
With murdering weapons arm'd, a lawless brood, 
On England's vile inhuman shore who stand, 
The foul reproach and scandal of our land ! 
To rob the wanderers wreck'd upon the strand. 
These, while their savage office they pursue, 
Oft wound to death the helpless, plunder'd crew, 
Who, 'scap'd from every horror of the main, 
Implor d their mercy, but implor'd in vain. 
But dread not this ! — a crime to Greece unknown ! 
Such blood-hounds all her circling shores disown ; 



68 THE SHIPWRECK. 

Her sons, by barbarous tyranny opprest, 
Can share affliction with the wretch distrest : 
Their hearts, by cruel fate inur'd to grief, 
Oft to the friendless stranger yield relief. 

With conscious horror struck, the naval band 
Detested for awhile their native land. 
They curs'd the sleeping vengeance of the laws, 
That thus forgot her guardian sailors' cause. 
Meanwhile the masters voice again they heard, 
Whom, as with filial duty, all rever'd. 

No more remains — but now a trusty band 
Must ever at the pump industrious stand ; 
And while with us the rest attend to wear, 
Two skilful seamen to the helm repair! 
O source of Life ! our refuge and our stay ! 
Whose voice the warring elements obey ; 
On thy supreme assistance we rely ; 
Thy mercy supplicate if doom'd to die ! 
Perhaps this storm is sent, with healing breath, 
From neighb'ring shores to scourge disease and deaths 
5 Tis ours on thine unerring laws to trust: 
With thee, great Lord ! ' whatever is, is just. 7 

He said : and with consenting reverence fraught, 
The sailors join'd his prayer in silent thought. 
His intellectual eye, serenely bright ! 
Saw distant objects with prophetic light. 
Thus in a land, that lasting wars oppress, 
That groans beneath misfortune and distress : 
Whose wealth to conq'ring armies fall a prey ; 
Her bulwarks sinking, as her troops decay ; 
Some bold sagacious statesman, from the helm, 
Sees desolation gathering o'er his realm : 
He darts around his penetrating eyes, 
Where dangers grow, and hostile unions rise J 



THE SHIPWRECK. 69 

With deep attention marks th' invading foe ; 
Eludes their wiles, and frustrates every blow : 
Tries his last art the tottering state to save ; 
Or in its ruins finds a glorious grave. 

Still in the yawning trough the vessel reels, 
Ingulph'd beneath two fluctuating hills : 
On either side they rise ! tremendous scene ! 
A long dark melancholy vale between*. 

* That the reader, who is unacquainted with the manoeuvres of na- 
vigation, may conceive a clearer idea of a ship's state when trying-, 
and of the change of her situation to that of scudding, I have quoted 
a part of the explanation of those articles as they ap pear in the Dic- 
tionary of the marine. 

Trying is the situation in which a ship lies nearly in the trough or 
hollow of the sea in a tempest, particularly when it blows contrary to 
her course. 

In trying as well as in scudding, the sails are always reduced ia 
proportion to the increase of the storm ; and in either state, if the 
storm is excessive, she may have all her sails furled •, or be, according 
to the sea phrase, under bare poles. 

The intent of spreading a sail at this time is to keep the ship more 
steady, and to prevent her from rolling violently, by pressing her side 
down in the watery and also to turn her head towards the source of the 
wind, so that the shock of the seas may fall more obliquely on her flank 
that when she lies along the trough of the sea, or in the interval be- 
tween two waves. While she lies in this situation the helm is fasten - 
ed close to the lee-side, to prevent her as much as possible from fall- 
ing to leeward. But as the ship is not then kept in equilibrio by the 
operation of her sails, which at other times counterbalance each other 
at the head and stern, she is moved by a slow, but continual vibration, 
which turns her head alternately to windward and to leeward, form- 
ing an angle of 30 or 40 degrees in the interval. Th at part where she 
stops in approaching the direction of the wind is called her coming-to ; 
and the contrary excess of the angle to leeward is called her fall' 
ing-otf. 

Veering or wearing (see line 13, p. 61, and line 6, p. 66) as used in 
the present sense, may be defined, the movement by which a ship 
changes her state from trying to that of scudding ; or, of running 
before the direction of the ivind and sea* 



70 THE SHIPWRECK. 

The balanc'd ship, now forward, now behind, 
Still felt the impression of the waves and wind, 
And to the right and left by turns inclin'd. 



It is an axiom in natural philosophy, that every body will persevere 
in a state of rest, or of moving uniformly in a right line, unless it 
be compelled to change its state by forces impressed ; and that the 
change of motion is proportional to the moving force impressed, and 
made according to the right line in which that force acts. 

Hence it is easy to conceive how a ship is compelled to turn into 
any direction by the force of the wind acting upon any part of her 
length in lines parallel to the plane of the horizon. Thus in the act 
of veering, which is a necessary consequence of this invariable prin- 
ciple, the object of the seamen is to reduce the action of the wind o» 
the ship's hind-part, and to receive its utmost exertion on her fore-part, 
so that the latter may be pushed to leeward. This effect is either pro- 
duced by the operation of the sails, or by the impression of the wind 
on the masts and yards. In the former case the sails on the hind- 
part of the ship are either furled or arranged nearly parallel to the 
direction of the wind, which then glides ineffectually along their s ur- 
faces ; at the same time the fore-most sails are spread abroad, so as to 
receive the greatest exertion of the wind. See line 6 of next page. 
The fore-part accordingly yields to this impulse, and is put in motion, 
and this motion necessarily conspiring with that of the wind, push- 
es the ship about as much as is requisite to produce the desired ef- 
fect. 

But when the tempest is so violent as to preclude the use of sails, 
the effort of the wind operates almost equally on the opposite ends 
of the ship, because the masts and yards situated near the head and 
stern serve to counterbalance each other in receiving its impression. 
The effect of the helm is also considerably diminished, because the 
headway, which gives life and vigour to all its operations, is at thi s 
time feeble and ineffectual. Hence it becomes necessary to destroy 
this equilibrium which subsists between the masts and yardi be- 
fore and behind, and to throw the balance forward to prepare for 
veering. If this cannot be effected by the arrangement of the yards 
on the masts, and it becomes absolutely necessary to veer in order 
to save the ship from destruction, the mizen-mast must be cut away, 
and even the main-mast, if she still remains incapable of answering 
the helm, by turning her prow to leeward. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 

But Albert from behind the balance drew, 

And on the prow its double efforts threw. — 

The order now was given to bear away ; 

The order given, the timoneers obey. 

High o'er the bowsprit stretch'd, the tortur'd sail ; 

As on the rack, distends beneath the gale. 

But scarce the yielding prow its impulse knew 

When in a thousand flitting shreds it flew ! — 

Yet Albert new resources still prepares, 

And bridling grief, redoubles all his cares. 

Away there, lower the mizen-yard on deck ! 

He calls, and brace the foremost yards aback.' 

His great example every bosom fires, 

New life rekindles, and new hope inspires. 

While to the helm unfaithful still she lies, 

One desperate remedy at last he tries. — 

Haste, with your weapons cut the shrouds and stay ; 

And hew at once the mizen-mast away ! 



Scudding is that movement in navigation by which a ship is carri- 
ed precipitately before a tempest. (See line 13, p. 61, and line 6, p. 66.) 
As a ship flies with amazing- rapidity through the water, whene- 
ver this expedient is put in practice, it is never attempted in a con- 
trary wind, unless when her condition renders her incapable of sus- 
taining the mutual effort of the wind and waves any longer on her 
side, without being exposed to the most imminent danger. 

A ship either scuds with a sail extended on her fore-mast, or if 
the storm is excessive, without any sail, which in the sea phrase is 
called scudding under bare poles. 

The principal hazards incident to scudding are, generally, a sea 
striking the ship's stern ; the difficulty of steering, which perpetually 
exposes her to the danger of broachiug-to ; and the want of sufficient 
sea-room. A sea which strikes the stern violently may shatter it to 
pieces, by which the ship must inevitably founder. By broaching-to 
suddenly, she is threatened with losing all her masts and sails, or be- 
ing immediately overturned ; and for want of sea-room she is expos- 
ed to the dangers of being wrecked on a lee-shore. 



72 THE SHIPWRECK. 

He said ! th' attentive sailors on each side, 
At his command the trembling cords divide. 
Fast by the fated pine bold Rodmond stands : 
Th' impatient axe hung gleaming in his hands ; 
Brandish'd on high, it fell with dreadful sound ; 
The tall mast groaning, felt the deadly wound. — 
Deep gash'd with sores, the tottering structure rings : 
And crashing, thundering, o'er the quarter swings. 

Thus when some limb, convuls'd with pangs of death, 
Imbibes the gangrene's pestilential breath ; 
Th' experience artist from the blood betrays 
The latent venom, or its course delays : 
But if th' infection triumphs o'er his art, 
Tainting the vital stream that warms the heart, 
Resolv'd at last, he quits th' unequal strife, 
Severs the member, and preserves the life. 



FND OF THE SECOND CANTO. 






THE 

SHIPWRECK 

CANTO III. 

ARGUMENT. 



THE design and influence of Poetry. — Applied to the subject. — Wreck 
of the mizen-mast cleared away. — Ship veers before the zvind. — Her 
violent agitation. — Different stations of the officers. — Appearance 
of the island of Falconera. — Excursion to the adjacent nations of 
Greece, renowned in antiquity. — Athens. — Socrates.— Plato. — Aris- 
tides. — Solon — Corinth. — Sparta. — Leonidas. — Invasion of Xerxes. 
— Lycurgus. — Epaminondas. — Modern appearance. — Arcadia. — Its 
former happiness and fertility. — Present distress, the effect of sla- 
very. — Ithaca. — Ulysses and Penelope. — Argos and Mycence. — Aga- 
memnon. — Macronisi. — Leninos. — Vulcan and Venus.— Delos. — Apol- 
lo and Diana. — Troy. — Sestos. — Leander and Hero. — Delphos. — 
Temple of Apollo. — Parnassus. — The Muses.— The subject resumed. 
Sparkling of the sea. — Prodigious tempest, accompanied with rain 
hail, and meteors. — Darkness, lightning, and thunder. — Approach of 
day. — Discovery of land. — The ship in great danger passes the island 
of St. George. — Turns her broad-side to the shore. — Her bowsprit, 
foremast, and main-top-mast carried away. — She strikes a rock. — 
splits asunder. — Fate of the crew. 

The Scene stretches from that part of the Archipelago, 
which lies ten miles to the northward of Falconera, to 
Cape Colona, in Attica — The Time is about seven hours, 
being from one till eight in the morning. 

When in a barbarous age, with blood defiTd, 
The human savage roam'd the gloomy wild ; 
G 



74 THE SHIPWRECK. 

When sullen Ignorance her flag display' d, 

And Rapine and Revenge her voice obey'd ; 

Sent from the shores of light the Muses came, 

The dark and solitary race to tame. 

Twas their's the lawless passions to controul, 

And melt in tender sympathy the soul : 

The heart from vice and error to reclaim, 

And breathe in human breast celestial flame. 

The kindling spirit caught th' empyreal ray, 

And glow'd congenial with the swelling lay. 

Rous'd from the chaos of primeval night, 

At once fair Truth and Reason sprung to light. — 

When great Maeonides, in rapid song, 

The thundering tide of battle rolls along, 

Each ravish'd bosom feels the high alarms, 

And all the burning pulses beat to arms. 

From earth upborne, on Pegasean wings, 

Far thro' the boundless realms of thought he springs ; 

While distant poets, trembling as they view 

His sunward flight, the dazzling track pursue. 

But when his strings, with mournful magic, tell 

What dire distress Laertes' son befel, 

The strains, meand'ring thro' the maze of wo, 

Bid sacred sympathy the heart o'erflow. 

Thus, in old time, the Muses' heavenly breath 

With vital force dissolv'd the chains of death : 

Each bard in epic lays began to sing, 

Taught by the master of the vocal string. — 

r Tis mine alas ! through dangerous scenes to stray, 

Far from the light of his unerring ray ! 

While, all unus'd the wayward path to tread, 

Darkling I wander with prophetic dread. 

To me in vain the bold Maeonian lyre 

Awakes the numbers, fraught with living fire ! — 



THE SHIPWRECK. 75 

Full oft indeed, that mournful harp of yore 
Wept the sad wanderer lost upon the shore ; 
But o'er that scene th' impatient numbers ran, 
Subservient only to a nobler plan. 
'Tis mine th' unravePd prospect to display, 
And chain th' events in regular array. 
'Tho* hard the task, to sing in varied strains, 
While all unchang'd the tragic theme remains ! 
Thrice happy ! might the secret powers of art 
Unlock the latent windings of the heart ! 
Might the sad numbers draw compassion's tear 
For kindred miseries, oft beheld too near : 
For kindred wretches, oft in ruin cast, 
On Albion's strand beneath the wint'ry blast; 
For all the pangs, the complicated wo, 
Her bravest sons, her faithful sailors know ! 
So pity, gushing o'er each British breast, 
Might sympathize with Britain's sons distrest : 
For this, my theme through mazes I pursue, 
Which nor Mjsonides nor Maro knew. 

Awhile the mast, in ruins drag'd behind, 
Balanc'd the impression of the helm and wind : 
The wounded serpent, agoniz'd with pain, 
Thus trails his mangled volume on the plain. 
But now the wreck, dissever'dfrom the rear, 
The long reluctant prow began to veer ; 
And while around before the wind it falls, 
Square all the yards !* the attentive master calls — 
You timoneers, her motion still attend ! 
For on your steerage all our lives depend. 



* To square the yards, in this place, is meant to arrange them di- 
rectly athwart the ship's length. 



76 THE SHIPWRECK. 

So, steady ! * meet her, watch the blast behind, 
And steer her right before the seas and wind ! 
Starboard again ! the watchful pilot cries ; 
Starboard, the obedient timoneer replies. 
Then to the left the ruling helm returns ; 
The wheel f revolves ; the ringing axle burns ! 
The ship no longer, foundering by the lee, 
Bears on her side th' invasions of the sea; 
All lonely o'er the desert waste she flies, 
Scourg'd on by surges, storm and bursting skies. 
As when the masters of the lance assail, 
In hyperborean seas, the slumbering whale ; 
Soon as the javelins pierce his scaly hide, 
With anguish stung, he cleaves the downward tide ; 
In vain he flies ! no friendly respite found ; 
His life-blood gushes thro' th' inflaming wound. 
The wounded bark, thus smarting with her pain, 
Scuds from pursuing waves along the main ; 
While, dash'd apart by her dividing prow, 
Like burning adamant the waters glow. 
Her joints forget their firm elastic tone ; 
Her long keel trembles, and her timbers groan. 
Upheav'd behind her, in tremendous height, 
The billows frown, with fearful radiance bright ! 
Now shivering, o'er the topmast wave she rides, 
While, deep beneath, th' enormous gulf divides. 
Now launching headlong down the horrid vale, 
She hears no more the roaring of the gale ; 



* Steady, is the order to steer the ship according- to the line on 
which she advances at that instant, without deviating" to the right or 
left thereof. 

t In all large ships the helm is managed by a wheel. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 77 

Till up the dreadful height again she flies, 

Trembling beneath the current of the skies. 

As that rebellious angel who, from heaven, 

To regions of eternal pain was driven ; 

When dreadless he forsook the Stygian shore, 

The distant realms of Eden to explore ; 

Here, on sulphureous clouds sublime upheav'd, 

With daring wing the infernal air he cleav'd, 

There, in some hideous gulf descending prone, 

Far in the rayless void of night was thrown. 
Even so she scales the briny mountain's height, 

Then down the black abyss precipitates her flight. 

The masts, around whose tops the whirlwinds sing, 

With long vibration round her axle swing. 

To guide the wayward course amid the gloom, 

The watchful pilots different posts assume. 
Albert and Rodmond, station'd on the rear, 
With warning voice direct each timoneer. 
High on the prow the guard Arion keeps, 
To shun the cruisers wandering o'er the deeps : 
Where'er he moves, Palemon still attends, 
As if on him his only hope depends: 
While Rodmond, fearful of some neighb'ring shore, 
Cries, ever and anon, Look out afore ! 
Four hours thus scudding on the tide she flew, 
When Falconera's rocky height they view ; 
High o'er its summit, through the gloom of night, 
The glimmering watch-tower cast a mournful light. 
In dire amazement rivetted they stand, 
And here the breakers lash the rugged strand : 
But soon beyond this shore the vessel flies, 
Swift as the rapid eagle cleaves the skies. 
So from the fangs of her insatiate foe, 
O'er the broad champaign scuds the trembling roe. 
G2 



78 THE SHIPWRECK. 

That danger past reflects a feeble joy ; 
But soon returning fears their hope destroy. 
Thus in th' Atlantic, oft the sailor eyes, 
While melting in the reign of softer skies, 
Some alp of ice from polar regions blown, 
Hail the glad influence of a warmer zone : 
Its frozen cliffs attemper'd gales supply ; 
In cooling stream the aerial billows fly : 
Awhile deliver' d from the scorching heat, 
In gentler tides the feverish pulses beat. 

So, when the trembling vessel passed this isle,. 
Such visionary joys the crew beguile ; 
Th' illusive meteors of a lifeless fire ! 
Too soon they kindle, and too soon expire! 
Say, Memory ! thou, from whose unerring tongue 
Instructive flows the animated song ! 
What regions now the flying ship surround ? 
Regions of old, through all the world renown'd ; 
That, once the poet's theme, the muses' boast; 
Now lie in ruins ; in oblivion lost ! 
Did they, whose sad distress these lays deplore, 
Unskill'd in Grecian or in Roman lore, 
Unconscious pass each famous circling shore? 

They did: for blasted in the barren shade, 
Here, all too soon, the buds of science fade ; 
Sad ocean's genius, in untimely hour, 
Withers the bloom of every springed flower. 
Here fancy droops, while sullen cloud and storm 
The generous climate of the soul deform. 
Then if, among the wandering naval train, 
One stripling, exil'd from th' Aonian plain, 
Had e'er, entranc'd in fancy's soothing dream, 
Approach'd to taste the sweet Castalian stream, 



THE SHIPWRECK. 71' 

(Since tho3e salubrious streams, with power divine 

To purer sense th' atteraper'd soul refine,) 

His heart, with liberal commerce here unblest, 

Alien to joy ! sincerer grief possest. 

Yet on the youthful mind, th' impression cast, 

Of ancient glory shall for ever last. 

There all unquench'd by cruel fortune's ire, 

It glows with inextinguishable fire. 

Immortal Athens first, in ruins spread, 
Contiguous lies at port Liono's head. 
Great source of science ! whose immortal name 
Stands foremost in the glorious roll of fame ; 
Here godlike Socrates and Plato shone, 
And, firm to truth, eternal honour won. 
The first in Virtue's cause his life resign'd, 
By Heaven pronounc'd the wisest of mankind: 
The last fortold the spark of vital fire, 
The soul's fine essence, never could expire. 
Here Solon dwelt, the philosophic sage; 
That fled Pisistratus' vindictive rage. 
Just Aristides here maintain'd the cause, 
Whose sacred precepts shine thro' Solon's laws. 
Of all her towering structures, now alone 
Some scatter' d columns stand, with weeds o'ergrown. 
The wandering stranger, near the port, descries 
A milk- white lion of stupendous size ; 
Unknown the sculptor ; marble is the frame : 
And hence th' adjacent haven drew its name. 

Next in the gulf of Engia, Corinth lies, 
Whose gorgeous fabrics seem'd to strike the skies. 
Whom, tho 1 by tyrant-victors oft subdu'd, 
Greece., Egypt, Rome, with awful wonder view'd. 



80 THE SHIPWRECK, 

Her name for Pallas' heavenly art renown'd,* 
Spread, like the foliage which her pillars crown'd. 
But now, in fatal desolation laid, 
Oblivion o'er it draws a dismal shade. 

Then farther westward on Morea's land, 
Fair Misitra ! thy modern turrets stand. 
Ah ! who, unmov'd with secret wo, can tell 
That here great Lacedaemon's glory fell ? 
Here once she flourished, at whose trumpet's sound, 
War burst his chains, and nations shook around. 
Here brave Leonidas, from shore to shore, 
Thro' all Achaia bade her thunders roar: 
He, when imperial Xerxes, from afar, 
Advanc'd with Persia's sumless troops to war, 
Till Macedonia shrunk beneath his spear, 
And Greece dismay 'd beheld the chief draw near : 
He, at Thermopylae's immortal plain, 
His force repel'd with Sparta's glorious train. 
Tall (Eta saw the tyrant's conquer'd bands, 
In grasping millions, bleed on hostile lands. 
Thus vanquish M Asia trembling heard thy name, 
And Thebes and Athens sicken'd at thy fame ! 
Thy state, supported by Lycurgus' laws, 
Drew, like thine arms, superlative applause. 
Even great Epaminondas strove in vain 
To curb that spirit with a Theban chain. 
But ah ! how low her free-born spirit now ! 
Her abject sons to haughty tyrants bow ; 
A false, degenerate, superstitious race 
Infest thy regions and thy name disgrace ! 

Not distant far, Arcadia's blest domains. 
Peloponnesus' circling shore contains. 

* Architecture. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 81 

Thrice happy soil ! where, still serenely gay, 
Indulgent Flora breath'd perpetual May, 
Where buxom Ceres taught th' obsequious field, 
Rich without art, spontaneous gifts to yield. 
Then with some rural nymph supremely blest, 
While transport glow'd in each enamour'd breast ; 
Each faithful shepherd told his tender pain, 
And sung of Sylvan sports in artless strain. 
Now, sad reverse ! oppression's iron hand 
Enslaves her natives, and despoils the land ; 
In lawless rapine bred, a sanguine train 
With midnight ravage scour th' uncultur'd plain. 

Westward of these beyond the isthmus lies 
The long-lost isle of Ithacus the wise ; 
Where fair Penelope her absent lord, 
Full twice ten years, with faithful love deplored. 
Tho' many a princely heart her beauty won, 
She, guarded only by a stripling son, 
Each bold attempt of suitor-kings repel'd, 
And undefil'd, the nuptial contract held. 
With various arts to win her love they toil'd, 
But all their wiles by virtuous fraud she foil'd. 
True to her vows, and resolutely chaste, 
The beauteous princess triumph'd at the last. 

Argos, in Greece forgotten and unknown, 
Still seems her cruel fortune to bemoan. 
Argos, whose monarch led the Grecian hosts, 
Far o'er th' iEgean main, to Dardan coasts. 
Unhappy prince ! who, on a hostile shore, 
Toil, peril, anguish, ten long winters bore. 
And when to native realms restor'd at last, 
To reap the harvest of thy labours past ; 
A perjur'd friend, alas ! and faithless wife, 
There sacrific'd to impious lust thy life ! — 



82 THE SHIPWRECK. 

Fast by Arcadia stretch these desart plains ; 
And o'er the land a gloomy tyrant reigns. 

Next the fair isle of Helena* is seen, 
Where adverse winds detain'd the Spartan queen ; 
For whom in arms combin'd the Grecian host, 
With vengeance fir'd, invaded Phrygia's coast ; 
For whom so long they labour' d to destroy 
The sacred turrets of imperial Troy. 
Here, driven by Juno's rage, the hapless dame, 
Forlorn of heart, from ruin'd llion came. 
The port, an image bears of Parian stone, 
Of ancient fabric, but of date unknown. 

Due east from this appears th' immortal shore, 
That sacred Phoebus and Diana bore. 
Delos, thro' all the iEgian seas renown'd! 
(Whose coast the rocky Cyclades surround) 
By Phoebus honour'd and by Greece rever'd ; 
Her hallow'd groves even distant Persia fear'd. 
But now, a silent, unfrequented land ! 
No human footstep marks the trackless sand. 

Thence to the north, by Asia's western bound, 
Fair Lemnos stands, with rising marble crown'd. 
Where, in her rage, avenging Juno hurFd 
Ill-fated Vulcan, from th' etherial world. 
There his eternal anvils first he rear'd ; 
Then, forg'd by Cyclopean art, appear'd 
Thunders, that shook the skies with dire alarms, 
And, forard by skill divine, Vulcanian arms. 
There, with this crippled wretch, the foul disgrace, 
And Jiving scandal of th' empyreal race, 
The beauteous queen of Love in wedlock dwelt : 
In fires profane, can heavenly bosoms melt ? 

* Now known by the name of Macronisi. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 83 

Eastward of this appears the Dardan shore, 
That once the imperial towers of Ilium bore. 
Illustrious Troy ! renown'd in every clime, 
Thro* the long annals of unfolding time ! 
How oft, thy royal bulwarks to defend, 
Thou saw'st thy tutelar gods in vain descend ! 
Tho' chiefs unnumber'd in her cause were slain, 
Tho' nations perish'd on her bloody plain ; 
That refuge of perfidious Helen's shame 
Was doom'd at length to sink in Grecian flame : 
And now, by Time's deep plough-share harrow'd o'er, 
The seat of sacred Troy is found no more. 
No trace of all her glories now remains ; 
But corn and vines enrich her cultur'd plains. 
Silver Scamander laves the verdant shore ; 
Scamander oft o'erflow'd with hostile gore ; 

Not far remov'd from Ilion's famous land, 
In counter-view appears the Thracian strand ; 
Where beauteous Hero, from the turret's height, 
Display'd her cresset each revolving night ; 
Whose gleam directed lov'd Leander o'er 
The rolling Hellespont, to Asia's shore ; 
Till, in a fated hour, on Thracia's coast, 
She saw her lover's lifeless body tost. 
Then felt her bosom agony severe ; 
Her eyes sad gazing pour'd the incessant tear : 
O'erwhelm'd with anguish, frantic with despair, 
She beat her beauteous breast and tore her hair — 
On dear Leander's name in vain she cry'd ; 
Then headlong plung'd into the parting tide. 
The parting tide receiv'd the lovely weight, 
And proudly flow'd, exulting in its freight ! 

Far west of Thrace, beyond th' Egean main. 
Remote from ocean, lies the Delphic plain. 



84 THE SHIPWRECK. 

The sacred oracle of Phoebus there, 
High o'er the mount arose, divinely fair ! 
Achaian marble form'd the gorgeous pile : 
August the fabric I elegant its style ! 
On brazen hinges turn'd the silver doors ; 
And chequer'd marble pav'd the polish'd floors ; 
The roofs where story'd tabletures appear'd, 
On columns of Corinthian mould were rear'd : 
Of shining porphyry the shafts were fram'd, 
And round the hollow dome bright jewels flam'd. 
Apollo's suppliant priests, a blameless train ! 
Fram'd their oblations on the holy fane : 
To front the sun's declining ray 'twas plac'd ; 
With golden harps and living laurels grac'd. 
The sciences and arts, around the shrine 
Conspicuous shone, engrav'd by hands divine ! 
Here iEscuLAPius' snake display'd his crest, 
And burning glories sparkled on his breast : 
While, from his eyes' insufferable light, 
Disease and death recoil'd, in headlong flight. 
Of this great temple thro' all time renown'd, 
Sunk in oblivion no remains are found. 

Contiguous here, with hallow'd woods o'erspread, 
Parnassus lifts to heaven its honour'd head; 
Where, from the deluge sav'd by Heaven's command, 
Deucalion leading Pyrrha, hand in hand, 
Repeopled all the desolated land. 
Around the scene unfading laurels grow, 
And aromatic flowers for ever blow. 
The winged choirs, on every tree above, 
Carol sweet numbers thro' the vocal grove ; 
While, o'er the eternal spring that smiles beneath, 
Young zephyrs, born on rosy pinions, breathe. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 85 

Fair daughters of the sun ! the sacred nine, 

Here wake to ecstacy their songs divine ; 

Or crown'd with myrtle, in some sweet alcove, 

Attune the tender strings to bleeding love. 

All sadly sweet the balmy currents roll ; 

Soothing to softest peace the tortur'd soul. 

While hill and vale with coral voice around, 

The music of immortal harps resound ; 

Fair Pleasure leads in dance the happy hours, 

Still scattering where she moves Elysian flowers ! — 

Even now the strains with sweet contagion fraught. 
Shed a delicious languor o'er the thought — 
Adieu, ye vales, that smiling peace bestow, 
Where Eden's blossoms ever-vernal blow ! 
Adieu ye streams, that o'er enchanted ground, 
In lucid maze th' Aonian hills surround ! 
Ye fairy scenes, where fancy loves to dwell, 
And young Delight, for ever, oh, farewell ! 
The soul with tender luxury you fill, 
And o'er the sense Lethean dews distil ! 
Awake, O Memory, from th' inglorious dream ! 
With brazen lung resume the kindling theme ! 
Collect thy powers ! arouse thy vital fire! 
Ye spirits of the storm, my verse inspire ! 
Hoarse, as the whirlwinds that enrage the main, 
In torrent pour along the swelling strain ! 

Now, born impetuous o'er the boiling deeps ; 
Her course to Attic shores the vessel keeps : 
The pilots, as the waves behind her swell, 
Still with the wheeling stern their force repel. 
For this assault should either quarter* feel, 
Again to flank the tempest she might reel. 

* The quarter is the hinder part of a ship's side : or hat part 
which is near the stern. 

H 



86 THE SHIPWRECK. 

The steersman every bidden turn apply ; 

To right and left the spokes alternate fly. 

Thus when some conquer'd host retreats in fear, 

The bravest leaders guard the broken rear : 

Indignant they retire, and long oppose, 

Superior armies that around them close ; 

Still shield the flanks ; the routed squadrons join ; 

And guide the flight in one embodied line. 

So they direct the flying bark before 
Th' impelling floods, that lash her to the shore. 
As some benighted traveller, through the shade, 
Explores the devious path with heart dismay'd : 
While prowling savages behind him roar, 
And yawning pits and quagmires lurk before — 
High o'er the poop the audacious seas aspire, 
Uproll'd in hills of fluctuating fire. 
As some fell conqueror, frantic with success, 
Sheds o'er the nations ruin and distress ; 
So, while the watery wilderness he roams, 
Incens'd to seven-fold rage the tempest foams ; 
And o'er the trembling pines, above, below, 
Shrill through the cordage howls, with notes of wo. 
Now thunders, wafted from the burning zone, 
Growl, from afar, a deaf and hollow groan ! 
The ship's high battlements, to either side 
For ever rocky, drink the briny tide : 
Her joints unhing'd, in palsied languors play, 
As ice dissolves beneath the noon-tide ray. 
The skies, asunder torn, a deluge pour ; 
The impetuous hail descends in whirling shower. 
High on the masts, with pale and livid rays, 
Amid the gloom portentous meteors blaze. 
The ethereal dome, in mournful pomp array'd, 
Now lurks behind impenetrable shade ; 



THE SHIPWRECK. 87 

Now, flashing round intolerable light, 
Redoubles all the terrors of the night. 
Such terror Sinai's quaking hill o'erspread, 
When heaven's loud trumpet sounded o'er its head. 
It seem'd, the wrathful angel of the wind 
Had all the horrors of the skies combin'd ; 
And here, to one ill-fated ship oppos'd, 
At once the dreadful magazine disclos'd. 
And lo ! tremendous o'er the deep he springs, 
Th' inflaming sulphur flashing from his wings ! 
Hark ! his strong voice the dismal silence breaks ; 
Mad chaos from the chains of death awakes ! 
Loud and more loud the rolling peals enlarge ; 
And blue on deck their blazing sides discharge : 
There, all-aghast, the shivering wretches stood ; 
While chill suspense and fear congeal'd their blood. 
Now in a deluge bursts the living flame, 
And dread concussion rends the ethereal frame, 
Sick earth convulsive groans from shore to shore ; 
And nature shuddering feels the horrid roar. 

Still the sad prospect rises on my sight ; 
Reveal' d in all its mournful shade and light. 
Swift through my pulses glides the kindling fire, 
As lightning glances on the electric wire. 
But ah ! the force of numbers strives in vain, 
The glowing scene unequal to sustain. 

But lo ! at last, from ten-fold darkness borne, 
Forth issues o'er the wave the weeping morn. 
Hail, sacred vision ! who on orient wings, 
The cheering dawn of light propitious brings ; 
All nature smiling hail'd the vivid ray, 
That gave her beauties to returning day : 
AH but our ship that groaning on the tide, 
No kind relief, no gleam of hope descry'd/ 



88 THE SHIPWRECK. 

For now, in front, her trembling inmates see 

The hills of Greece, emerging on the lee. 

So the lost lover views that fatal mourn, 

On which, for ever from his bosom torn, 

The nymph ador'd resigns her blooming charms, 

To bless with love some happier rival's arms. 

So to Eliza dawn'd that cruel day, 

That tore ^Eneas from her arms away ; 

That saw him parting, never to return, 

Herself in funereal flames decreed to burn : 

O yet in clouds, thou genial source of light, 

Conceal thy radiant glories from our sight ! 

Go, with thy smile adorn the happy plain, 

And gild the scenes where health and pleasure reign : 

But let not here, in scorn, thy wanton beam 

Insult the dreadful grandeur of my theme ! 

While shoreward now the bounding vessel flies, 
Full in her van St. George's cliffs arise ; 
High o'er the rest a pointed crag is seen, 
That hung projecting o'er a mossy green. 
Nearer and nearer now the danger grows, 
And all their skill relentless fates oppose. 
Nor, while more eastward they direct the prow, 
Enormous waves the quivering deck o'erflow. 
While, as she wheels, unable to subdue 
Her sallies, still they dread her broaching- to.* 
Alarming thought ! for now no more a-le e 
Her riven side could bear the invading sea ; 

* Broaching-to, is a sudden and involuntary movement in naviga- 
tion, wherein a ship, whilst scudding or sailing before the wind, un- 
expectedly turns her side to windward. It is generally occasioned 
by the difficulty of steering her, or by some disaster happening to 
the machinery of the helm. See the last note of the second Canto. 






THE SHIPWRECK. 89 

And if the following surge she scuds before, 

Headlong she runs upon the dreadful shore : 

A shore where shelves and hidden rocks abound, 

Where death in secret ambush lurks around — 

Far less dismay'd, Anchises' wand'ring son 

Was seen the straits of Sicily to shun : 

When Pilinurus, from the helm, descry'd 

The rocks of Scylla on his eastern side ; 

While in the west, with hideous yawns disclos'd, 

His onward path Charybdis gulf oppos'd. 

The double danger as by turns he view'd. 

His wheeling bark her arduous track pursu'd, 

Thus, while to right and left destruction lies, 

Between th' extremes the daring vessel flies. 

With boundless involution, bursting o'er 

The marble cliffs, loud dashing surges roar. 

Hoarse thro' each winding creek the tempest raves, 

And hollow rocks repeat the groan of waves. 

Destruction round th' insatiate coast prepares, 

To crush the trembling ship, unnumber'd snares. 

But haply now she 'scapes the fatal strand, 

Tho' scarce ten fathoms distant from the land, 

Swift as the weapon issuing from the bow, 

She cleaves the burning waters with her prow ; 

And forward leaping, with tumultuous haste. 

As on the tempest's wing, the isle she past. 

With longing eyes and agony of mind, 

The sailors view this refuge left behind ; 

Happy to bribe, with India's richest ore, 

A safe accession to that barren shore ! 

When in the dark Peruvian mine confin'd, 
Lost to the cheerful commerce of mankind, 
The groaning captive wastes his life away, 
For ever exil'd from the realms of day ; 
H 2 






9Q THE SHIPWRECK. 

Not equal pangs his bosom agonize, 
When far above the sacred light he eyes ; 
While, all forlorn, the victim pines in vain, 
For scenes he never shall possess again. 

But now Athenian mountains they descry, 
And o'er the surge Colonna frowns on high ; 
Beside the Cape's projecting verge are placM 
A range of columns, long by time defac'd : 
First planted by devotion to sustain, 
In elder times, Tritonia's sacred fane. 
Foams the wild beach below with mad-ning rage, 
Where waves and rocks a dreadful combat wage, 
The sickly haven, fermenting with its freight, 
Still vomits o'er the main the feverish weight ; 
And now, while wing'd with ruin from on high, 
Thro' the rent cloud the ragged lightnings fly, 
A flash, quick-glancing on the nerves of light, 
Struck the pale helmsman with eternal night : 
Rodmond, who heard a piteous groan behind, 
Touch'd with compassion, gaz'd upon the blind : 
And, while around his sad companions crowd, 
He guides the unhappy victim to the shroud. 
Hie thee aloft, my gallant friend ! he cries ; 
Thy only succour on the mast relies ! — 
The helm, bereft of half its vital force, 
Now scarce subdu'd the wild unbridled course ; 
Quick to the abandon'd wheel Arion came, 
The ship's tempestuous sallies to reclaim. 
Amaz'd he saw her, o'er the sounding foam, 
Upborne to right and left distracted roam. 
So gaz'd young Phaeton, with pale dismay, 
When, mounted in the flaming car of day : 
With rash and impious hand, the stripling try'd 
Th' immortal courses of the sun to guide.—- 



THE SHIPWRECK. 91 

The vessel, while the dread event draws nigh, 
Seems more impatient o'er the waves to fly : 
Fate spurs her on : thus issuing from afar, 
Advances to the sun some blazing star ; 
And, as it feels th' attraction's kindling force, 
Springs onward with accelerated course. 

With mournful look the seamen ey'd the strand, 
Where death's inexorable jaws expand : 
Swift from their minds elaps'd all dangers past, 
As, dumb with terror, they beheld the last. 
IVow on the trembling shrouds, before, behind, 
In mute suspense they mount into the wind. — 
The genius of the deep on rapid wing, 
The black eventful moment seem'd to bring. 
The fatal sisters, on the surge before, 
Yok'd their infernal horses to the prore. — 
The steersmen nowreceiv'd their last command 
To wheel the vessel sidelong to the strand. 
Twelve sailors on the fore-mast who depend, 
High on the platform of the top ascend — 
Fatal retreat ! for while the plunging prow 
Emerges headlong in the wave below, 
Down-prest by wat'ry weight the bowsprit bends, 
And from above the stem deep-crashing rends. 
Beneath her beak the floating ruins lie ; 
The fore-mast totters, unsustain'd on high ; 
And now the ship, fore-lifted by the sea, 
Hurls the tall fabric backwards o'er her lee. 
While, in the general wreck, the faithful stay 
Drags the main-top-mast from its post away. 
Flung from the mast, the seamen strive in vain 
Thro' hostile floods the vessel to regain. 
The waves they buffet, till, bereft of strength, 
O'erpower'd they yield to cruel fate at length. 



92 THE SHIPWRECK. 

The hostile waters, close around their head, 
They sink for ever, number'd with the dead ! 

Those who remain, their fearful doom await, 
Nor longer mourn their lost companions' fate. 
The heart, that bleeds with sorrow all its own, 
Forgets the pangs of friendship to bemoan — 
Albert and Rodmond and Palemon here, 
With young Arion, on the mast appear ; 
Even they, amid, th' unspeakable distress, 
In every look distracting thoughts confess : 
In every vein the refluent blood congeals : 
And every bosom fatal terror feels. 
Enclos'd with all the demons of the main, 
They view'd th' adjacent shore, but viewed in vain. 
Such torments in the drear abodes of hell, 
Where sad despair laments with rueful yell, 
Such torments agonize the damned breast, 
While fancy views the mansions of the blest. 
For Heaven's sweet help, their suppliant cries implore ; 
But Heaven relentless deigns to help no more ! 

And now, lash'd on by destiny severe, 
With horror fraught, the dreadful scene drew near ! 
The ship hangs hovering on the verge of death, 
Hell yawns, rocks rise, and breakers roar beneath f 
In vain, alas ! the sacred shades of yore 
Would arm the mind with philosophic lore ; 
In vain they'd teach us, at the latest breath, 
To smile serene amid the pangs of death. 
Even Zeno's self, and Epictetus old, 
This fell abyss had shudder'd to behold. 
Had Socrates, for godlike virtue fam'd, 
And wisest of the sons of men proclaim'd, 
Beheld this scene of frenzy and distress, 
His soul had trembled to its last recess ! 



THE SHIPWRECK. 93 

O yet confirm my heart, ye powers above, 
This last tremendous shock of fate to prove ; 
The tottering frame of reason yet sustain ! 
Nor let this total ruin whirl my brain ! 

In vain the cords and axes were prepar'd, 
For now th' audacious seas insult the yard ; 
High o'er the ship they throw a horrid shade, 
And o'er her burst, in terrible cascade. 
Uplifted on the surge, to heaven she flies, 
Hershatter'd top half buried in the skies : 
Then headlong plunging thunders on the ground, 
Earth groans ! air trembles ! and the deeps resound ! 
Her giant bulk the dread concussion feels, 
And, quivering with the wound, in torment, reels. 
So reels, convuls'd with agonizing throes, 
The bleeding bull beneath the murd'rer's blows — 
Again she plunges ! hark ! a second shock 
Tears her strong bottom on the marble rock ! 
Down on the vale of death, with dismal cries, 
The fated victims shuddering roll their eyes, 
In wild despair ; while yet another stroke, 
With deep convulsion, rends the solid oak. 
Till like the mine, in whose infernal cell 
The lurking demons of destruction dwell, 
At length asunder torn her frame divides ; 
And crashing spreads in ruin o'er the tides. 

O were it mine with tuneful Maro's art, 
To Wake to sympathy the feeling heart ; 
Like him the smooth and mournful verse to dress, 
In all the pomp of exquisite distress ! 
Then too severely taught by cruel fate, 
To share in all the perils I relate, 
Then might I, with unrival'd strains deplore 
Th' impervious horrors of a leeward shore. 



94 THE SHIPWRECK. 

As o'er the surge the stooping main-mast hung, 
Still on the rigging thirty seamen clung : 
Some, struggling, on a broken crag were cast, 
And there by oozy tangles grappled fast ; 
Awhile they bore th' o'erwhelming billows' rage, 
Unequal combat with their fate to wage ; 
Till all benumb'd and feeble they forego 
Their slippery hold, and sink to shades below. 
Some, from the main-yard-arm impetuous thrown 
On marble ridges, die without a grown. 
Three with Palemon on their skill depend, 
And from the wreck on oars and rafts descend. 
Now on the mountain-wave on high they ride, 
Then downward plunge beneath th' involving tide : 
Till one, who seems in agony to strive, 
The whirling breakers heave on shore alive ; 
The rest a speedier end of anguish knew, 
And prest the stony beach, a lifeless crew ! 

Next, O unhappy chief ! th' eternal doom 
Of Heaven decreed thee to the briny tomb ! 
What scenes of misery torment thy view, 
What painful struggles of the dying crew ! 
Thy perish'd hopes all buried in the flood, 
O'erspread with corses ! red with human blood I 
So pierc'd with anguish hoary Priam gaz'd, 
When Troy's imperial domes in ruin blaz'd ; 
While he, severest sorrow doom'd to feel, 
Expir'd beneath the victor's murdering steel. 
Thus with his helpless partners till the last, 
Sad refuge ! Albert hugs the floating mast ; 
His soul could yet sustain this mortal blow, 
But droops, alas ! beneath superior wo ; 
For now soft nature's sympathetic chain 
Tugs at his yearning heart with powerful strain ; 



THE SHIPWRECK. 95 

His faithful wife for ever doom'd to mourn 

For him, alas ! who never shall return ; 

To black adversity's approach expos'd, 

With want and hardships unforeseen enclos'd : 

His lovely daughter left without a friend, 

Her innocence to succour and defend. 

By youth and indigence set forth a prey 

To lawless guilt, that flatters to betray — 

While these reflections rack his feeling mind, 

Rodmond, who hung beside, his grasp resign'd ; 

And, as the tumbling waters o'er him roll'd, 

His outstretch' d arms the master's legs infold — 

Sad Albert feels the dissolution near, 

And strives in vain his fetter'd limbs to clear ; 

For death bids every clinching joint adhere. 

All faint, to Heaven he throws his dying eyes, 

And, " O protect my wife and child !" he cries; 

The gushing streams roll back th' unfinish'd sound, 

He gasps ! he dies ! and tumbles to the ground ! 

Five only left of all the perish' d throng, 
Yet ride the pine which shoreward drives along ; 
With these Arion still his hold secures, 
And all the assaults of hostile waves endures. 
O'er the dire prospect as for life he strives 
He looks if poor Palemon yet survives. 
Ah wherefore, trusting to unequal art, 
Didst thou incautious ! from the wreck depart ? 
Alas ! these rocks all human skill defy, 
Who strikes them once beyond relief must die : 
And now sore wounded thou perhaps art tost 
On these, or in some oozy cavern lost ; 
Thus thought Arion, anxious gazing round, 
In vain, his eyes no more Palemon found, 



96 THE SHIPWRECK. 

The demons of destruction hover nigh, 

And thick their mortal shafts commission'd fly : 

And now a breaking surge, with forceful sway, 

Two, next Arion, furious tears away. 

Hurl'd on the crags, behold, they gasp ! they bleed ! 

And, groaning, cling upon th' elusive weed ! 

Another billow burst in boundless roar ; 

Arion sinks ! and memory views no more ! 

Ha ! total night and horror here preside ! 
My stunn'd ear tingles to the whizzing tide ! 
It is the funeral knell ! and gliding near, 
Methinks the phantoms of the dead appear ! 

But lo ! emerging from the watery grave, 
Again they float incumbent on the wave ! 
Again the dismal prospect opens round, 
The wreck, the shores, the dying and the drown'd ! 
And see ! enfeebled by repeated shocks, 
Those two who scramble on th' adjacent rocks, 
Their faithless hold no longer can retain, 
They sink o'erwhelm'd, and never rise again ! 

Two, with Arion, yet the mast upbore, 
That now above the ridges reach'd the shore : 
Still trembling to descend, they downward gaze 
With horror pale, and torpid with amaze : 
The floods recoil ! the ground appears below ! 
And life's faint embers now rekindling glow: 
Awhile they wait th' exhausted waves retreat, 
Then climb slow up the beach with hands and feet. 
O Heav'n ! deliver'd by whose sovereign hand, 
Still on the brink of hell they shuddering stand, 
Receive the languid incense they bestow, 
That damp with death appears not yet to glow. 
To thee each soul the warm oblation pays, 
With trembling ardour, of unequal praise ; 



THE SHIPWRECK. 97 

In every heart dismay with wonder strives, 
And Hope the sicken 'd spark of life revives ; 
Her magic powers their exil'd health restore* 
Till horror and despair are felt no more. 

A troop of Grecians who inhabit nigh, 
And oft these perils of the deep descry, 
Rous'd by the blustering tempest of the night* 
Anxious had climb'd Colonna's neighb'ring height ! 
When gazing downward on the adjacent flood, 
Full to their view the scene of ruin stood ; 
The surf with mangled bodies strew'd around ; 
And those yet breathing on the sea-wash'd ground ! 
Tho' lost to science and the nobler arts, 
Yet nature's lore inform'd their feeling hearts ; 
Straight down the vale with hastening steps they hied. 
Th' unhappy sufferers to assist and guide. 

Meanwhile those three escap'd beneath, explore 
The first advent'rous youth who reach'd the shore 
Panting, with eyes averted from the day, 
Prone, helpless, on the tangle beach he lay — 
It is Palemon ; — oh ! what tumults roll 
With hope and terror in Arion's soul ! 
If yet unhurt he lives again to view 
His friend and this sole remnant of our crew ! 
With us to travel thro' this foreign zone, 
And share the future good or ill unknown. 
Arion thus ; but ah ! sad doom of fate ! 
That bleeding Memory sorrows to relate, 
While yet afloat on some resisting rock, 
His ribs were dash'd and fractur'd with the shock ; 
Heart-piercing sight ! those cheeks, so late array'd 
In beauty's bloom, are pale with mortal shade ! 
Distilling blood his lovely breast o'erspread, 
And clogg'd the golden tresses on his head : 
I 



98 THE SHIPWRECK. 

Nor yet the lungs by this pernicious stroke 
Were wounded, or the vocal organs broke. 
Down from his neck, with blazing gems array'd ; 
Thy image, lovely Anna ! hung portray' d ; 
Th' unconscious figure smiling all serene, 
Suspended in a golden chain was seen. 
Hadst thou, soft maiden ! in this hour of wo, 
Beheld him writhing from the deadly blow, 
What force of art, what language could express 
Thine agony ? thine exquisite distress ? 
But thou, alas ! art doom'd to weep in vain 
For him thine eyes shall never see again ! 
With dumb amazement pale Arion gaz'd, 
And cautiously the wounded youth uprais'd ; 
Falemon then, with cruel pangs opprest, 
In faultering accents thus his friend addrest : 
" O, rescu'd from destruction late so nigh, 
" Beneath whose fatal influence doom'd I lie ;. 
" Are we then exil'd to this last retreat 
" Of life, unhappy ! thus decreed to meet? 
" Ah ! how unlike what yester-morn enjoy'd, 
" Enchanting hopes, for ever now destroy'd ! 
" For wounded far beyond all healing power, 
" Palemon dies, and this his final hour : 
" By those fell breakers, where in vain I strove, 
" At once cut off from fortune, life and love ; 
" Far other scenes must soon present my sight, 
" That lie deep-buried yet in tenfold night. 
" Ah ! wretched father of a wretched son, 
" Whom thy paternal prudence has undone ! 
" How will remembrance of this blinded care 
" Bend down thy head with anguish and despair ! 
" Such dire effects from avarice arise, 
" That, deaf to nature's voice, and vainly wise, 



THE SHIPWRECK. 99 

■ a With force severe endeavours to controul 
44 The noblest passions that inspire the soul. 
44 But, O thou sacred Power ! whose law connects 
44 Th' eternal chain of causes and effects, 
44 Let not thy chastening ministers of rage 
44 Afflict with sharp remorse his feeble age ! 
44 And you, Arion ! who with these the last 
44 Of all our crew survive the Shipwreck past — 
"Ah! cease to mourn ! those friendly tears restrain ! 
44 Nor give my dying moments keener pain ! 
44 Since Heaven may soon thy wandering steps restore., 
44 When parted hence, to England's distant shore ; 
44 Shouldst thou th' unwilling messenger of fate, 
44 To him the tragic story first relate, 
'*' 4 Oh ! friendship's generous ardour then suppress ! 
" Nor hint the fatal cause of my distress : 
" Nor let each horrid incident sustain 
u The lengthen' d tale to aggravate his pain. 
44 Ah then remember well my last request, 
44 For her who reigns for ever in my breast ; 
44 Yet let him prove a father and a friend, 
44 The helpless maid to succour and defend. 
" Say, I this suit implor'd with parting breath, 
44 So Heaven befriend him at his hour of death ! 
u But oh ! to lovely Anna shouldst thou tell 
44 What dire untimely end thy friend befel, 
" Draw o'er the dismal scene soft pity's veil, 
44 And lightly touch the lamentable tale : 
44 Say that my love, inviolably true, 
44 No change, no diminution, ever knew ; 
44 Lo ! her bright image, pendent on my neck, 
44 Is all Palemon rescu'd from the wreck ; 
u Take it and say, when panting in the wave, 
*• J struggled life and this, alone .to save ' 



100 THE SHIPWRECK. 

" My soul, that fluttering hastens to be free, 
" Would yet a train of thoughts impart to thee, 
" But strives in vain ;— the chilling ice of death 
" Congeals my blood, and choaks the stream of breath : 
" Resign'd she quits her comfortless abode, 
" To course that long, unknown, eternal road— 
" O sacred source of ever-living light, 
" Conduct the weary wanderer in her flight ! 
" Direct her onward to that peaceful shore, 
" Where peril, pain and death are felt no more ! 

« When thou some tale of hapless love shalt hear, 
" That steals from pity's eye the melting tear, 
" Of two chaste hearts by mutual passion join'd, 
" To absence, sorrow, and despair consign'd. 
" Oh ! then, to swell the tides of social wo, 
" That heal th' afflicted bosom they o'erflow, 
" While Memory dictates, this sad Shipwreck tell, 
« And what distress thy wretched friend befel ! 
« Then while in streams of soft compassion drown d, 
«- The swains lament, and maidens weep around-, 
« While lisping children, touch'd with infant fear, 
« With wonder gaze, and drop th' unconscious tear : 
« O ! then this moral bid their souls retain, ^ 
" All thoughts of happiness on earth are vain."* 

The last faint accents trembled on his tongue, 
That now inactive to the palate clung ; 
His bosom heaves a mortal groan— he dies . 
And shades eternal sink upon his eyes ! 

As thus defac'd in death Palemon lay, 
Arion gaz'd upon the lifeless clay, 



-sed scilicet ultima semper 



Expectanda dies hommi, dicique beatus 

Ante obitum nemo supremaque funera debet^ ^^ ^ ^ 



THE SHIPWRECK. 101 

' Transfix' d he stood, with awful terror fill'd, 
While down his cheek the silent drops distill'd. 

" O ill-star' d votary, of unspotted truth ! 
" Untimely perish'd in the bloom of youth, 
" Should e'er thy friend arrive on Albion's land. 
" He will obey, tho' painful, thy demand : 
" His tongue the dreadful story shall display, 
" And all the horrors of this dismal day ! 
M Disasterous day ! what ruins hast thou bred ; 
" What anguish to the living and the dead ! 
" How hast thou left the widow all-forlorn, 
u And ever doom'd the orphan child to mourn ; 
" Thro life's sad journey hopeless to complain ! 
" Can sacred justice these events ordain ? 
" But, O my soul ! avoid that wonderous maze 
" Where Reason, lost in endless error, strays ! 
" As thro' this thorny vale of life we run, 
" Great Cause of all effects, Thy will be done /" 
Now had the Grecians on the beach arriv'd : 

To aid the helpless few who yet surviv'd : 

While passing, they behold the waves o'erspread 

With shatter' d rafts and corses of the dead. 

Three still alive, benumb'd and faint, they find, 

In mournful silence on a rock reclin'd. 

The generous natives, mov'd with social pain, 

The feeble strangers in their arms sustain ; 

With pitying sighs their hapless lot deplore, 

And lead them trembling from the fatal shore 



12 



OCCASIONAL ELEGY. 



OCCASIONAL ELEGY. 



The scene of death is clos'd, the mournful strains 

Dissolve in dying languor on the ear : 
Yet Pity weeps, yet Sympathy complains, 

And dumb Suspense awaits, o'erwhelm'd with fear. 

But the sad muses, with prohetic eye, 
At once the future and the past explore ; 

Their harps oblivion's influence can defy, 
And waft the spirit to th' eternal shore. 

Then, O Palemon ! if thy shade can hear 
The voice of Friendship still lament thy doom ; 

Yet to the sad oblation bend thine ear, 
That rise in vocal incense o'er thy tomb. 

In vain, alas ! the gentle maid shall weep, 
While secret anguish nips her vital bloom ; 

O'er her soft frame shall stern diseases creep, 
And give the lovely victim to the tomb. 

Relentless phrenzy shall the Father sting, 
Untaught in virtue's school distress to bear ; 

Severe remorse histortur'd soul shall wring, 
'Tis his to groan and perish in despair. 



106 OCCASIONAL ELEGY. 

Ye lost companions of distress, adieu ! 

Your toils and pains and dangers are no more ! 
The tempest now shall howl unheard by you, 

While ocean smites in vain the trembling shore. 

On you the blast, surcharg'd with rain and snow, 
In winter's dismal nights no more shall beat ; 

Unfelt by you the vertic sun may glow, 
And scorch the panting earth with baneful heat. 

No more the joyful maid, the sprightly strain 

Shall wake the dance to give you welcome home ; 

Nor hopeless love impart undying pain, 
When far from scenes of social joy you roam. 

No more on yon wide wat'ry waste you stray, 
While hunger and disease your life consume, 

While parching thirst, that burns without allay, 
Forbids the blasted rose of health to bloom. 

No more you feel Contagion's mortal breath, 
That taints the realms with misery severe : 

No more behold pale Famine scattering death, 
With cruel ravage desolate the year. 

The thundering drum, the trumpet's swelling strain, 
Unheard shall form the long embattled line ; 

Unheard, the deep foundations of the main 
Shall tremble when the hostile squadrons join. 

Since grief, fatigue, and hazards still molest 
The wandering vassals of the faithless deep, 

! happier now escap'd to endless rest, 
Than we who still survive to wake and weep. 



OCCASIONAL ELEGY. 10T 

What tho' no funeral pomp, no borrow'd tear, 
Your hour of death to gazing crowds shall tell ;. 

Nor weeping friends attend your sable bier, 
Who sadly listen to the passing bell. 

The tutor'd sigh, the vain parade of wo, 

No real anguish to the soul impart; 
And oft, alas ! the tear that friends bestow, 

Belies the latent feelings of the heart. 

What tho* no sculptur'd pile your name displays,. 

Like those who perish in their country's cause ; 
What tho' no epic muse in living lays 

Records your dreadful daring with applause. 

Full oft the flattering marble bids renown, 
With blazon'd trophies deck the spotted name : 

And oft, too oft, the venal muses crown 
The slaves of vice with never-dying fame. 

Yet shall remembrance from oblivion's veil 
Relieve your scene, and sigh with grief sincere, 

And soft compassion at your tragic tale, 
In silent tribute pay her kindred tear. 



THE END. 




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